Phoenix from the Dragon Fire
by IAmFluentInSarcasm
Summary: During one of their flights, Eragon and Saphira are thrown into an unknown world of wizards and witches. They meet a boy that goes by the name of Harry Potter and befriend him. But when they find themselves in the middle of another war despite that they'd just finished one, will they fight or will they flee? Set after the Inheritance and during Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning of It All

**So...um...HI!**

 **I'm a new writer at FanFiction and this is my first fanfic. It's a mix between two of my favorite books, Inheritance Cycle and Harry Potter. I would've uploaded it to the Inheritance Cycle/Harry Potter crossovers, but, you know, nobody checks those out.**

 **So, you'll hear from me at the end of the chapter again and until then...**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Inheritance Cycle _or_ Harry Potter. They belong to Christopher Paolini and J.K. Rowling respectively.

* * *

 _ **INHERITANCE CYCLE/HARRY POTTER**_

 **Summary:** _During one of their flights, Eragon and Saphira are thrown into an unknown world of wizards and witches. They meet a boy that goes by the name of Harry Potter and befriend him. But when they find themselves in the middle of another war despite that they just finished one, will they fight or will they flee?_

 _Set after the Inheritance and during Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix._

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE: The Beginning of It All**

 _It is better to lead from behind and to put others in front, especially when you celebrate victory when nice things occur. You take the front line when there is danger. Then people will appreciate your leadership._

 _ **-Nelson Mandela**_

* * *

The cool morning breeze swept through Eragon's hair, tousling it, but also soothing his nerves. He hadn't had a lot of time to spend flying with Saphira. He had thrown himself into training after they left Alagaësia and the Eldunarya weren't going easy on him and Saphira often had to fly great lengths away from Talita to find herself some food. They were both often too busy to spend some quality time together. This was one of the rare moments they had time to do it. After spending so much time on rocking deck of the elven Ship it felt immensely great to Eragon to be back on Saphira's back, flying through clouds and performing various types of stunts. Saphira did a triple loop and together they bellowed their happiness. Then she evened herself and slowly glided on the air drafts.

 _You're tired,_ she observed quietly.

 _Tired from what? The endless water or training?_ he asked bitterly.

 _Both._

He _was_ tired. He was physically tired from all the training he had been through, as no one was going easy on him, not the Eldunarya, not himself. It was the only distraction that forced him to stop thinking about his friends and family, about _her_ , he left behind. But he was also tired from the water they had sailed over for months. They had found a couple of islands, but they were both far too small to build the new home of the Dragon Riders on them. So they sailed forward and it has been a month since they left the last one. The river became wider and wider as they sailed east and even from Saphira's back and with his keen sight he had trouble seeing the river banks.

 _But you're mentally tired as well,_ continued Saphira. _You're being too hard on yourself. I can feel your aching muscles every night when you go to sleep and how exhausted you are. But what's worse, you sleep only for a few hours before you wake up and start training again despite how fatigued you are. Some elves see a strong leader in that, but Blödhgarm, Yaela, a couple of other elves, Umaroth, Glaedr, Valdr and I are worried about you. You'll kill yourself if you don't stop. Please, little one, stop._

By the time she finished, her voice was pleading. He sighed.

 _If I don't train, I start to think about... things I don't want to think about._

And despite his trying to prevent it, an image of an emerald-eyed elf-maiden flashed across his mind.

 _Little one,_ Saphira's soothing voice and mind swept through his head, chasing his gloomy thoughts away. _Don't think like that. Think of the good times we had with them, when you and Arya got drunk or how beautiful Roran and Katrina's wedding was._

 _I do! But my thoughts always return to the moment we left, how Roran screamed, how Fírnen carried Arya away, how Murtagh and Thorn left too..._

 _Remember what I once told you? To live only in the present, remember the past and not fear about the future?_

 _Yes._

 _You have to do that. For the time being, we're destined to be apart from them, but I have utmost faith that we'll meet again. After all, we'll live for the whole eternity._

 _Yeah, but... don't you remember, Saphira? I am not to return to Alagaësia according to the prophecy._

 _Bah!_ she snorted indignantly. _I will_ _ **not**_ _let something as foolish as_ _ **prophecy**_ _define my life and tell me what I can and cannot do! Besides,_ she added more softly. _Angela also foretold that you'll fall in love with a noble woman and you'll have an epic romance. The way I see it, that woman of noble birth is Arya and what you two had was far from epic romance._

 _Thanks, Saphira,_ he sarcastically answered.

 _That's not what I meant and you know it!_ she snapped back at him. She instantly regretted it. _Sorry, I didn't mean to get angry. What I meant, Eragon, was that what you two had, no, what you have, is special. Neither of you will forget that in the near future. What happened wasn't the end of you two. No, it was barely the beginning. You shall meet again and when you do,_ her voice turned mischievous. _I will make sure that you will be locked in the same room until you resolve your problems._

He smiled despite himself, for the first time in weeks. It felt odd to tighten his facial muscles in the way he did.

 _I mean it, Eragon! I will block the door myself!_ she threatened, though there was a tint of humor in her voice.

He couldn't help but laugh this time. He felt relieved, carefree and happy, as though a great weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you, Saphira," he said out loud. "You just made my day."

 _Anytime, little one, anytime._

They flew on for a few minutes more, before Saphira spoke again.

 _But that's not the only thing weighing down on you._

 _No._

 _What is it? Come on, you can tell me._

 _I'm seventeen._

 _I know that. Surely it's not a problem?_

 _I'm seventeen and I am the Leader of the Dragon Riders. I carry the burden that was usually carried by men or women centuries old. How can I live up to them?_

 _Eragon,_ she gently said, but her undertone told him she was somewhat annoyed with him. _You have already surpassed them._

 _I have?_ he asked, bemused.

 _Yes, you fool,_ she answered, this time not bothering to cover up her annoyance. _By killing Galbatorix, you have shown that you're more than worthy of the title of a Dragon Rider and your actions after that proved you can and you deserve to be the Leader of the Dragon Riders. By including Urgals and dwarves into the Dragon-Rider pact, you have established a balance between all the races of Alagaësia, that has never been known before. You could just finish the war and then leave. But you care for the others and you built the foundations for new future, and a better one, that is. For you didn't just rid Alagaësia of Galbatorix, you_ _ **saved**_ _Alagaësia. Even if some individuals don't see it, it is for their best, and they shall see it in time._

 _And yet again, my dearest Saphira, you bring me out of my misery,_ he said as he let his gratefulness and love for his other half wash over her. _Elrun ono, hjarta iet._

 _You don't have to thank me, little one. We are one and we shall always be one. We help each other. That is what we do._

He leaned forward, pressing his tired body against Saphira's neck and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was already sleeping.

* * *

He woke up what seemed like mere minutes later, by Saphira's urgent voice.

 _Eragon!_ Her voice, like usually, had a strong tone, but he could tell she was panicking without even having to search through her mind.

And when he looked around, he knew exactly why.

"No," he breathed out.

Around them, everything had darkened. The once cloudless light blue sky was covered with dark grey clouds, everything and all of it. If it was still a day, the sunlight was blocked by the clouds. It was only their keen eyesight that allowed them to somehow see what was around them. But the problem was there was nothing _to_ see.

 _Saphira, what's going on?_ he asked, desperately looking around for some kind of escape, or at least something to indicate him what was going on.

 _I don't know!_ she answered, panic taking control over her voice. _We were flying and everything was fine! But suddenly, everything has just become like_ this _!_

The wind started blowing and Saphira was tossed around as if she was nothing more but a mere piece of trash. She was desperately flapping her wings, trying to gain control of the situation, but that fight was long lost and they both knew it. As they were tossed around, both of them failed to notice that with every jerk they experienced the knots holding Eragon in place were becoming looser and looser. And once they did notice, it was too late. With one of the thrust, the knots loosened completely and he flew through the air with a yell of surprise.

 _Eragon!_ Saphira's voice was filled with pure terror, but it sounded so far away as he fell through the air, his arms swinging as though trying to grab something.

He turned his head to look down, to see how deep he'll fall. But to his utter surprise, in complete contrast to the clouds around him, under him light shined. It was so bright white he had to look away from it. As he did so, he remembered he and Saphira weren't alone. They had about thirty elves with them and thousands of Eldunarya. They could help. He let defenses around his mind down completely, for the first time in years. Anyone could had taken possession of his mind at that moment, but he didn't care. All he cared about right there and then was getting him and his dear Saphira out of whatever-they-have-found-themselves-in.

 _ **HELP!**_

He knew they had heard him; his mental cry for help was too strong to miss even by weakest of magicians. But what he wasn't sure about was if they could help them. Everything was happening way too fast for the elves and the Eldunarya to react in time. He glanced down again. He was sure now. There wasn't a chance that they could get saved from whatever was throwing them around. He looked back at Saphira. Their eyes locked together, deep chocolate brown meeting intense sapphire blue, and at that moment a silent understanding passed between them, without words or even emotions exchanged. Saphira flapped her wings one last time, pushing herself down, towards her Rider. Eragon raised his arm, stretching it out and his palm touched Saphira's snout. It was warm and hard and _scaly_ , but at that moment he didn't want to feel anything else.

They had touched the light. Eragon screamed and Saphira roared as first it felt like they were thrown in fire and it burned. Then it felt like they landed in an ice cold water that pierced through their skin deeper and deeper into them. Next, came the feeling of being stabbed by thousands of knives at once, puncturing through every inch of their bodies. It went on and on like that and they never stopped roaring in pain. Suddenly, there was a flash of white light, as if a lightning struck.

And then...

darkness.

* * *

 **So, what did you think? Did you like it?**

 **Feel free to leave a review, especially if you've got something good to say. And I don't mind** **constructive criticism, either.**

 **Oh, and, the images I put for the cover image aren't mine. I just mashed them up. The one of Eragon and Saphira belongs to ElizaLento from DeviantArt and the one of Harry belongs to HitoFanart, also from DevinatArt.**

 **Anyway... until next time...**

 **EA4E**


	2. Chapter 2: The Perfect Timing

**Hi again!**

 **It's been like almost three weeks and I'm sorry for not updating, I've been really busy. But I'll explain that at the end of the chapter.**

 **So...**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Inheritance Cycle _or_ Harry Potter. They belong to Christopher Paolini and J.K. Rowling respectively.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2: The Perfect Timing**

 _Someday everything will make perfect sense. So, for now, laugh at the confusion, smile through the tears and keep reminding yourself that everything happens for a reason._

 _ **-Unknown**_

* * *

"Where do you think Hagrid is?" Ron asked, probably for the thousandth time that afternoon, making Hermione and Harry groan.

"We don't know, Ron!" answered Hermione, like Ron, for about thousandth time. "We've already told you that! But you know what Sir-"

Harry cleared his throat very loudly. Even if no one was around, he wasn't comfortable with saying Sirius' name out loud. Someone could be invisible and listening in on their conversation. And he knew that first hand.

Hermione quickly corrected herself. "I mean, _Snuffles's_ said that he's sure Hagrid's fine. And though there are a lot of things you can call Snuffles, liar is most certainly not one of them."

Ron finally gave in. He nodded and started walking towards the castle with his head bowed. The other two followed. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds audible their footsteps and their breathing.

Harry raised his head and looked towards the sky.

"It's going to rain again," he announced, his tone dark.

Ron and Hermione, too, raised their heads.

"Not just that," said Hermione. "It seems like there'll be a storm, too."

"Great," grumbled Ron. "Just what we need for Quidditch. Wet and soaking grass."

"Ron, you play in the air, on flying broomsticks," the bushy-haired girl pointed out. "I think the grass underneath is kind of irrelevant."

"Yeah, but when we land, everything just splashes around and our robes get soaked and it takes _forever_ to clean them!" the ginger rambled. "Then there's the fact that it is immensely hard to wash the mud out and there's a possibility that this kind of weather won't stop and it'll continue 'till the Quidditch game and we could get trashed around the air and our brooms might ruin - I mean, look what happened to Harry in our third year,-"

"Dementors were there that time, you know, I doubt they'll dare to show up again - Dumbledore will eat them alive. And about the dirty robes -you should try the cleaning charm. It really helps."

"Yeah, but..."

They went on and on like that. Meanwhile, Harry stayed back and kept looking at the sky. Something was about to happen and it wasn't a storm. He turned to call out to his friends, only to find them in a heated argument about SPEW. How they got to there, he had no idea. It was but five minutes since he stopped listening to their conversation.

"The house-elves don't want to be free, Hermione! They li-"

"Don't you dare say they like being enslaved! They're just too afraid-"

"Hey, guys?" Harry called. No answer.

"-to admit it!"

"Phew! Have you-?"

"Um, guys?" Harry tried again.

"-seen the looks they gave you when you praised Dobby for wanting to be a free elf last year?"

"He should be proud of that and so must be Harry! He freed him!"

"I am proud of that, I just wish I Wouldn't have told you - it'd make my life so much easier," muttered Harry to himself. Luckily for him, his friends missed that, too. "But you've got to see this!"

"And Winky! She, too, is free and she should cherish it! I'm going to make them realize th-"

"GUYS!" bellowed Harry, finally having enough of their bickering. "For the love of God, would you just _look_?!"

They turned to him, their eyes huge. They looked at where he was pointing and, if possible, their eyes widened even more.

In the sky, right in the dark grey clouds, an oval-shaped patch of light appeared. But it wasn't as if sunlight streamed through the clouds, it was as the patch itself glowed, shone, from its depths. It was something they had never seen before and they doubted they'll see it again.

"What is that?" Hermione breathed out, her expression one of awe.

"I don't know," answered Ron with his expression matching hers and their argument long forgotten.

"I-"

No one ever found out what Harry was about to say because at that exact moment something fell, no, _was thrown_ , from the patch of light. All they could see was a blur of sapphire blue, before it crashed right in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, breaking many dozens of trees and scaring every living being around. a large flock of birds flew up into the air, their distressed chirping reaching them without any trouble.

"What was _that_?" cried Harry in surprise, but he didn't wait to hear his friends' answers.

He dashed forward and Ron and Hermione immediately followed. By the time they caught up with him, he was already at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione grabbed his arm. "you can't go in there. It's the Forbidden Forest."

He shook her hand off. "I don't care."

He ran forward again, this time without stopping. Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"He's too rash for his own good," muttered Ron but he, too ran into the Forbidden Forest.

"Why am I friends with them?" sighed Hermione exasperatedly before she pulled out her wand, prepared it and traced after the boys.

It really wasn't that hard to find the path to where the thing fell. All the Forest's residents were fleeing from it. It took them quite a lot of time to get there, though. The path itself wasn't that long, but is was surrounded by thick trees and bushes. When they finally reached the end of their path, their clothes were ripped in many places, but they didn't even notice for what was on front of them, made them forget about the world around them.

Harry stumbled into the clearing the thing made, first. He stopped abruptly and Ron and Hermione crashed right into him.

"Harry!" they wailed indignantly.

He payed them no heed, his eyes trained on what was in front of him. His friends, too, gazed at it and gasped in shock as they did so. Hermione's knees buckled and Ron quickly caught, without even being aware of doing so. They were all looking at the thing before their eyes.

Or rather, two things.

A boy.

And ... a blue dragon.

* * *

 _ **HELP!**_

Glaedr woke up from his slumber, startled. If he still had a body, his eyes would be wide and his body tense. But he didn't and he quickly reached out with his mind to touch the other Eldunarya's mind.

 _Was that..._ he trailed off.

 _Eragon?_ finished white-former-leader-now-Eldunarí-Umaroth for him. And for once his mind had a hint of panic in it. _Yes. Hatchlings are in trouble._

 _I should've known,_ grumbled the golden Eldunarí, but he was worried for his latest-now-last-hatchlings. They were the last ones he taught, after all. Well, at least the last ones he and his partner-of-heart-and-mind-Oromis taught together. _What happened?_

 _We don't know,_ responded the-oldest-of-the-sane-heart-of-hearts-Valdr. _I've just contacted the two-legs-pointy-ears. They've started searching for them._

 _We should, too,_ Umaroth said and all the other Eldunarya sent their consent.

But before they could reach out with their minds, another voice spoke, one that had joined them only recently.

 _O-Our-blue-bonded-hatchling-Saphira and her-Rider-half-pointy-ears-Eragon a-are missing?_

The voice was different than those of the bonded dragons. It was wilder, freer, prouder... once. Now it was hollow, broken, _shattered_. That voice belonged to Vervada Stormcleaver, or at least to who she once was.

Glaedr remembered what she was like before the Fall. She was fierce - a trait that her daughter undoubtedly inherited -, proud - again, something that was passed on to her only daughter bonded with a Rider - and cold. She was not, however, vain as Saphira was and she did not know how to comfort others, hence her coldness. She didn't tolerate any kind of weakness, but she treated everyone equally, be it a newly hatched hatchling or the leader of the wild dragons. She didn't hesitate to give her opinion, be it good or bad - discretion wasn't her strongest quality - and she was a bit hot-headed, too.

Her temporary mate and Saphira's father, Iormûngur, was a complete opposite of her. He wasn't too fierce or proud, but he was protective, warm, compassionate and incredibly vain - Saphira's vanity faded in comparison to his. He and his Rider were in the Rider council, known for their calm and reasonable minds - the only thing the bonded pair had in common, really.

Yes.

Umaroth's simple and short answer brought Glaedr back in the present, where he focused on the task at hand - find and help Saphira and Eragon.

I want to help, Vervada stated.

I don't think that is wise, Stormcleaver, white-formerly-leader-now-Eldunarí-Umaroth countered.

I want to help! growled Vervada and for a second, Glaedr could see glimpse of the ferocity fierce-and-cold-Vervada once possessed. A few of younger wild dragons recoiled from the other Eldunarya's minds - a force of habit, Glaedr supposed. Fierce-and-cold-Vervada was the best teacher of the wild dragons and her offspring was known to be the best of the dragons, but her techniques weren't the prettiest. _She's my last hatchling alive!_

 _Let her be, cousin,_ interfered Glaedr _. We're losing precious time arguing._

A feeling of disapproval radiated from Umaroth's Eldunarí, but he let the subject drop and said nothing more on the matter. Instead, the other Eldunarya joined their minds with the three of them. All of the sane ones joined for none considered it unimportant even if they were wild dragons in time of their lives. They all came to respect Eragon, for his stubborn determination, and Saphira, for her fiery protectiveness, in the short months they'd spent together with them.

They reached out with their minds, in search of the bonded pair. The elves had searched for them, too, and by the time Eldunarya started, they had been doing so for about quarter of a hour. And search they did. For hours. Their minds reached all the way to the banks of the Edda river and almost to Du Weldenvarden. Glaedr even felt a mind of one of the two-legs-pointy-ears brush his thoughts lightly.

But their seeking was in vain. They didn't find them alive or unconscious to their utmost concern but nor did they find their corpses and that was at least some kind of relief. There wasn't a sign of them. It drove Vervada on the verge of insanity and considering she had just become somewhat sane again, it wasn't the healthiest thing for her.

 _We shouldn't stop. We must continue,_ she said, but her undertone told them that she was slowly giving up. _They could've been_ _unconscious until now and we might be able to find them now. Please, we can't stop looking._

 _It is to no avail,_ said Glaer and though he never was nostalgic, the last time he spoke those exact words and who he spoke them to were burned into his mind.

* * *

It is to no avail, hatchling, _Glaedr said._ She won't wake up. She's too deep in her misery.

I don't care, _retorted the elf-like man that was sitting on the wooden floor in the lower deck of Talíta._ I know how important this'd be to Saphira and I won't give up on her.

 _Glaedr sighed within his mind. Eragon always was and always will be stubborn as a mule. Once he got his mind set on something, there simply was no convincing him to do otherwise even if it meant risking his own life in the process, which in this case, to peace of Glaedr's mind, wasn't at risk._

 _At that moment, Eragon was gazing at a midnight blue Eldunarí in his lap, his face set into a determined frown despite that fatigue radiated from his entire figure and mind. For that alone, Glaedr felt a small amount of awe for the young Rider. Ever since he learned of Vervada's Eldunarí's existence during a series of unexpected but also highly amusing events - which involved him being thrown off her back by Saphira for insulting her, though unintentionally, crashing through Talíta's deck and landing in the middle of the insane Eldunarya, that had been warded, to their utmost fortune - a few weeks back, he had been coming to the lower deck every night, where he spent hours trying to converse with the once-wild-and-proud-dragoness. He left only a few hours before dawn, before Saphira or the elves awoke. But he was always up early, ready to train. Saphira suspected nothing. There wasn't a night that he didn't show up._

Why are you doing this, Eragon? _the golden Eldunarí asked, curious as to why the Blue Rider was doing it._ It surely isn't just because of your love for Saphira.

 _The young man sighed and ran a hand through thick brown locks, his face finally showing a sign of exhaustion._ My parents are dead and I never got a chance to meet them, not really. But Saphira's mother is, if not sane, at least alive and I'm going to do everything that's in my power to get her back to Saphira. If I can't have my parents back, at least Saphira can.

 _A flurry of deep emotions passed through Glaedr, but he recognized them all. Pride. Longing. Respect. Warm surprise. And many more._ You've grown, hatchling, _he said, pride lacing his voice._ I just might have to stop calling you hatchling in the next decade.

 _A small smile graced Eragon's features, but before he could answer, a feminine voice spoke._

Saphira? My-hatchling-Saphira?

* * *

And now, just a day later, he found himself saying words that he had never _ever_ expected to say in association with Eragon and Saphira.

 _They're gone._

* * *

Harry was the first one to recover from the shock of the sight before them. He cautiously stepped forward despite his friends' warnings. He crouched and turned over the boy in front of him. He was wearing a plain beige tunic, a dark blue vest over it, black breeches and black boots, that once might've been clean and noble, but now they were just muddy and bloodied. Harry couldn't quite distinguish the boy's features for they, too, were stained by a mixture of blood and mud, but he could see that he had brown hair. Around the boy's hips a belt was fastened and on it...

"A sword," said Hermione as she and Ron approached him and Harry inspected it closer in the dim light of the Forbidden Forest.

It was sapphire blue and it seemed to be the same color as the dragon before them. There was a strange glyph on the scabbard and there was a sapphire embedded in its pommel, held in place by four claw-like ribs. The grip was made from black hardwood.

"Who is he?" asked Ron. His face was scratched and his clothes were torn, as were Hermione's. Harry was sure he didn't look any better. "And more importantly, what is a dragon doing here?" His face was wary, but at the same time awed, as he gazed at the blue dragon.

Harry had to admit that, though the sight was terrifying to behold, the dragon before his eyes was, unlike the dragons he'd met so far, beautiful. It had sapphire scales that refracted the light and bone white talons and spikes, though they were dirty from mud. Its head was triangular and it also possessed four cheek spines, slightly curved horns and forehead spines between its horns. It had two serrated fangs that jutted out of its upper jaw onto its bottom lip slightly. Its wings looked like they were from velvet, but they protruded from the body at a weird angle and Harry supposed that they were broken. His eyes roved over its back and to his utter surprise, the dragon had a saddle between two of its spikes.

Hermione suddenly let out a sound that was half squeak half scream and the boys turned to looked at her, startled.

"There's a dragon in the Forbidden Forest! And we're just inspecting it like it is a mere horse!" She said hysterically. And it was only when she said it, it was that the situation they had found themselves in hit the boys in full. They quickly jumped back like just the proximity to the boy poisoned them. "We should go get professors," suggested the girl and for once, Harry couldn't agree with her more. "I'll go get them."

The boys nodded, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, wand at ready. Ron and Harry pulled out their wands as well, pointed them at the boy and sat down.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron spoke up. "How is it that it is always us that get into trouble?" he asked.

"I've got absolutely no idea, " Harry answered as his lips stretched into a strained smirk. "Dad and Sirius'd be proud, though."

Ron chuckled. "Undoubtedly, mate."

And the clearing fell silent again.

Half an hour later, the rustling of the leaves and snapping of twigs sounded through the dead silent clearing, making them jump on their feet their wands pointed to whomever was coming through the forest.

They were instantly relieved as Dumbledore's voice floated through the air: "Dear boys, if you'd, please, lower your wands, for there is no cause to raise them against us."

A moment later, he entered the clearing in his sky blue robes, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. He was soon followed by Hermione, McGonall and Snape. Hermione instantly positioned herself next to her friends, McGonall shot a half stern half concerned look in their direction and Snape just regarded them with his usual death glare. Eragon pointedly ignored him and observed Dumbledore, who was inspecting the boy and the dragon. All was silent as Dumbledore crouched over the boy. Then, he sighed, stood up and glanced at them.

"The boy is injured and quite badly, if I say so myself. He probably has a few broken ribs and undoubtedly a broken arm. Miss Granger said that they fell from the sky," he regarded the trio with a curious glint in his eyes. "Is that true?"

The boys nodded.

Dumbledore's gaze was piercing, but he said nothing else on the matter. Instead, he turned to look at the dragon. "From the looks of it, I'd say that it has broken wings, but no more severe injuries."

"What will you do with them, Headmaster?" Snape's cold voice asked.

Hogwarts' Headmaster sighed. "The boy is strong. His aura is one of power. But no matter what, he is injured and he won't survive long without medical attention. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey, and as soon as possible."

They all gasped and gaped and him, but it was Professor McGonall who actually answered him.

"Have you gone daft, Albus?" she practically screamed at him. "The boy is powerful, you said it yourself! He could be a Death Eater!"

"I highly doubt he is, Minerva," Dumbledore answered her, calm as ever. "His power feels good." He turned towards the trio. "I trust you can see him to Madam Pomfrey and hide him from unwanted eyes." His eyes held a knowing spark and Harry immediately understood. cCloak and Marauders' Map.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and stretchers appeared. The three lifted the boy on them and the stretchers flew towards Hogwarts on their own. Harry, Ron ad Hermione followed. Before they reached the edge of clearing, Harry turned around.

"Professor, what of the dragon? What will happen to it?" he asked.

"We will only restrain it until the boy awakens and he explains it to us, Harry. I suggest you do the same with the boy."

Harry nodded and again, they went through the dark forest. He threw the Invisibility Cloak, that he had with himself, over the boy, effectively hiding him. He then pulled out the Marauders' Map with Ron and Hermione peering over his shoulder.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

He checked where Umbridge was and found her in her cabinet. Most of the students were in the Great Hall, having dinner or already in their houses. He then looked at the three points that showed him and his friends and lastly at the point next to them. To their surprise there was no name above it.

"That's odd," said Ron. "It should've showed his name."

Harry, too, was confused, but Hermione took it upon herself to find some logic in it. "Maybe it is because he hasn't identified himself to Hogwarts yet."

"Perhaps," agreed her friends.

They arrived in infirmary ward fifteen minutes later. Madam Pomfrey looked at them oddly as they stumbled into the ambulance, their faces scratched and their clothes torn, not to mention the fact that they had stretchers with a bloodied and muddy boy on them. They explained it to her that they had found him at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, of course leaving out the fact that he had a dragon with them. Luckily for them, she didn't ask a lot and even bound him to his bed without complain. She then brought in a bowl of water and a washing cloth and pushed them into Hermione's arms, saying that "she could make herself useful". Hermione shrugged and started washing the grime off of the boy's face. Madam Pomfrey, however, got rid the boy of his tunic and vest to tend to any possible wounds.

"Good lord!" she gasped as she saw his injuries.

Harry and Ron, who were previously sitting on the chairs next to the bed sprang to their feet to look at the boy.

He had a lean and muscular body, pale as alabaster, but that was not it. Left side of his torso was covered in bruises that varied from purple to yellow color. Then, there was blood trickling down the chest of the boy, making Harry feeling a bit nauseous.

"What happened to him?" Hermione, that finished washing his face with a damp cloth and came to stand next to them, gasped.

Harry, not wishing to look at the boy's beaten torso looked at the now clean face of the stranger. He was young, a couple of years older than them presumably, not much older than the Weasley twins. He had strong jaw, dark eyebrows and slanted features that gave him unearthly beauty. His face wasn't peaceful, though. His slanted eyebrows met in a shape of letter V as he frowned in what seemed like pain.

"He must've fallen from great height that he hurt himself so," said Madam Pomfrey as she headed for her office to get some potions. "Oh, what haven't I seen in my years," she muttered tiredly to herself.

"And it seems like Harry is the center of her medical concerns," snickered Ron good-naturedly. Harry stuck out his tongue at him, while Hermione looked at both of them disapprovingly, though a small smile graced her features.

A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey returned, two potions in her hands. She opened one of them, one colored emerald green, opened the stranger's mouth and let three drips of potions fall on his tongue. They instantly melted away.

"It will stop any inner bleedings he may have," explained Madam Pomfrey. She looked at the liquid in her other hand. "I'm afraid he has to drink this one that it'll actually work."

The three nodded and Harry voiced what all three were wondering. "What do we do now?"

"Now," sighed Madam Pomfrey. "we wait." And to their utter surprise, she didn't usher them out of the ambulance. She just turned around and left for her private rooms. "Call me when he awakes," she ordered them.

They sat down next to the stranger's bed and they waited. He was completely quiet in his sleep, almost as is he was aware of everything around him. He didn't wake up, though.

It was only almost two hours later they - or rather, Harry, for Ron and Hermione were soundly sleeping next to him - heard a groan from the boy. Harry rubbed his eyes and nudged his friends expectedly. And then he heard it - the breathing pattern of the stranger changed. It was faster and slightly hysterical. Harry smiled to himself.

The strange boy he and his friends found in the Forbidden Forest was awake.

* * *

 **Ugh...**

 **I _hate_ it! Everything seems just so rushed, bu I really doubt I can improve it if I try. Lately, the teachers've been raining tests on us, next week is like the third weeks since they've been doing it. And exchange students are coming the week after that (1.-5. June) so count out me updating that time. I'll try to update as soon as I can, though. Because I _do_ intend to finish the story because I hate how people just abandon their fanfics. So, feel free to nudge me if I don't update soon enough.**

 **Aaanyway, here are answers to your questions/reviews (Yay, I got reviews!):**

 **Guest reviewer: I'm really glad you like my fanfiction and my name. And Arya will come up in this story in near future and at the end of this fic and maybe inbetween (it depends on how unlazy I'll be), 'cause I really like her.**

 **Until next time...**

 **EA4E.**

 **P.S.: Thank you for all of your follows and favorites! I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like my story enough to follow it!**


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting for The First Time

**And I'm baaack! Though, it really hasn't been that long... but, you know, it's still a bit much.**

 **So, I won't be boring you here...**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE: Meeting for The First Time**

 _Each meeting occurs at the precise moment for which it was meant. Usually, when it will have the greatest impact on our lives._

 _ **-Nadia Scrieva**_

* * *

 _ **Pain**_ _._

 _"There is a proper way to greet the sentinels in Ceris, certain patterns and forms that you must observe when presented to Queen Islanzadí, and a hundred different manners in which to greet those around you, if it's not better to just remain quiet."_  
 _"With all your customs," Eragon risked saying, "it seems as though you've only made it easier to offend people."_  
 _A smile flickered across her lips. "Perhaps."_

Every muscle, every fiber in his body was pulsing with the damned pain. He was sick of pain. For the past two years he felt nothing but pain, emotional and physical alike. He wanted it to stop. He didn't want to feel it anymore.

 _"It's impossible to go through life unscathed. Nor should you want to. By the hurts we accumulate, we measure both our follies and our accomplishments."_

The back of his mind registered faint sounds, like breathing, snoring, occasional sighs, brushes of chairs against the floor and indistinct talking. But they seemed so far far away.

 _Then, as they stood there, struggling back and forth without avail, Eragon said in a low fierce voice, "I...see...you."_  
 _A bright spark appeared in her eyes, then vanished just as quickly._

He shifted ever so slightly and felt something soft underneath him and at once, his mind panicked. He was not supposed to be on a soft mattress. He was supposed to be in the deep blue sea or on a rocking ship on his hard mattress or even floating in the middle of air, just _not_ _here_ , in the middle of unknown surroundings with unknown sounds.

 _"Arya." He looked down the silvery river and then back at her, and he gripped the hilt of Brisingr. He was so full of emotion, he trembled. He did not want to leave, but he knew he must. "Stay with me-"_  
 _Her gaze darted up. "I cannot."_  
 _"...stay with me until the first curve in the river."_  
 _She hesitated, then nodded._

 _No, no, no!_ His mind was in a frenzy.

Where was he? He snapped his eyes open faster than a normal human could blink. An odd sight greeted him. He was in an infirmary ward, that, he was sure of. It was half dark, no lights were on, but the sun outside and his superior eyesight allowed him to see clearly. His gaze swept over beds, some of them draped, some of them not, over big door - he immediately identified them as an exit -, and at last over a trio of teenagers that were standing next to his bed, discarded chairs behind them.

"Madam Pomfrey," called one of them - a boy, that is, not a chair. He had big bright green eyes and unruly black hair. He was rather skinny and had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, though it was partly covered by his hair. "The boy's awake!"

An older lady with grey hair and blue eyes rushed out of a smaller door, her face set in a frown. She was at Eragon's side in an instant, her eyes blazing worryingly. Eragon tried to sit up but she pushed him back on the bed and shoved a bottle with a liquid of ruby red color in his face.

"Drink," she ordered.

He frowned, his eyebrows meeting, forming a shape of V. He had no time for such foolishness. He needed to find-

"Saphira," he croaked out, his voice hoarse, but he couldn't care less.

"Pardon?" inquired the other boy of the trio. He was tall and had fiery red hair and freckled complexion.

"Saphira," repeated Eragon, this time louder, clearer, but more for his sake than the redhead's.

He was already sitting up, his legs swung over the edge of the cot. He was about to stand up and bolt out of the door, when he found something restraining him. He looked down and saw his hand chained in a thin stream of yellow light. Despite the situation he'd found himself in, he had to resist the urge to smile. If they thought they could stop him with that, they were clearly underestimating him. Quite a lot.

"Kverst," he muttered and the stream broke.

The teenagers and the lady looked at him in shock and fear, but, again, he couldn't care less. He stood up again, this time without any restrainement and he bolted out the door. He felt a numb pain in his torso, but he ignored it. Only one thing was on his mind.

 _Saphira._

His beautiful, brave, proud, wise, fierce, vain, witty Saphira, but most importantly, _his_ Saphira. She was his constant companion for months, she was his soulmate. He had to find her before something happened to her.

He could feel that their connection was slightly cut, meaning she was probably unconscious. He would've known if she were dead, but to his greatest relief, she was alive - her mind was at the edge of his consciousness, pulling him towards her location. He stopped, closed his eyes and steadied himself, breathing in deeply, calmly and reached for their bond. He grasped it and let it guide him to Saphira. He followed it blindly, not knowing where it led him, but he knew it was the right way. He raced through hallways not caring about the world around him. He finally came upon a big gate, that were closed. He felt himself reaching for his magic and even before he gathered it, the spell was alredy on his lips.

"Ládrin."

The gate burst open in a second. He rushed forward, taking no notice of the four people following him or of their shouts after him. He ran as if his life was at stake and, in a way, it was. It was halfway to the dark forest in which he knew Saphira was that he felt her.

 _Eragon!_

Saphira's worry, fear and apprehension washed over him, mingling with his own, making Eragon pause momentarily.

 _Are you alright?_ he inquired.

 _I've been better,_ she answered, rage creeping into her voice. _There are some two-leg-_

She suddenly stopped talking and her mental roar echoed through his mind. His worry increased. He tried calling her but she didn't answer. He was already running forward, even more desperate to get to Saphira before someone seriously injured her - or she them, for that matter. In less than ten minutes, he was at the edge of the dark forest. He stopped as the wind howled, as if it was warning him from entering the forest. He glared at the dark trees, shook his head and charged at the darkness.

* * *

Harry used to think himself fast. But now that he watched the older boy in front of him run like Morgana herself was at his heels, he had to admit to himself that he maybe wasn't the fastest person ever. The boy - that had just disappeared in the Forbidden Forest - could definitely outrun him.

"Where are you going?" Yelled Ron after the boy. "You can't go into the Forbidden Forest! The dragon's in there!"

It didn't have the desired effect. If more, the boy seemed to speed up, his lean form vanishing in the darkness of the forest. Harry was sure he didn't even realize he was shirtless. Harry, Ron and Hermione were forced - though tempted would be more appropriate word - to follow. Madam Pomfrey trailed behind at slower pace but still a fast one - she was responsible for the boy, after all.

They raced through the forest, trying to keep up with the strange boy, but they had no such luck. He was way faster than them. Nevertheless, the motivation stayed and they got to their destination way faster than the last time. But, the sight before them - once again - made them pause - not that they minded, considering how fast and how long they ran.

The dragon was awake.

Oh, it was very much awake and _very_ angry. It was breathing blue-yellow fire all over the clearing, its heat exceeding the heat of normal fire by hundreds of degrees. The only thing that kept the older two wizards and witch alive, was the shield that Dumbledore conjured up between the dragon and themselves. That and the fact that the dragons' paws were trapped in some kind of earth-trap-spell that one of the Professors must've cast. It could not move anything else than its head and neck. It couldn't roar either judging by its furious expression as it opened its jaws and no sound came out. A strong silencing charm, he supposed. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape were slowly approaching it, shooting stunning spells towards it. Not one of them was reaching it. The dragon always shot a stream of its fire forcing the caster of the spell to jump away and thus, missing the target of the spell. But the dragon was tiring quickly and the three proficient wand-wielders were slowly getting to it. Whether the dragon liked it or not, it was losing. Or at least it did until...

The boy burst into the clearing not even a minute after them - Harry supposed he got lost on the way -, his right hand raised, a silver oval-shaped mark shinning on it. His brown eyes were darkened in anger. The trio raised their wands.

"STOP!" He growled through clenched teeth. Harry didn't know if it was from pain or rage. "Let her go!"

So the dragon was a she. Good to know.

When none of the people on the clearing moved the boy let out a growl. "I said, let - her - go!  
"Or I'll do it myself! And believe me, the consequences won't be pretty!"

Bruises on the left side of his chest looked even unhealthier under the dimmed sunlight and his left arm was uselessly dangling next to his body, but Harry had no doubt that whatever he had in mind would be true to his words.

Unfortunately, Snape didn't think so. "What will you do? Will you shine light on us?" He taunted with a sneer, his greasy hair ruffled and seared.

The dragon's eyes glinted viciously and it - she - raised its - her - head to strike.

But the boy was faster. "Gladly," he snarled back. Silver mark on his palm shined brighter as he cried out a single word, "Brisingr!"

A fireball of the same yellow-blue fire the dragon controlled shot out of his hand and headed for Snape. The Potions Master managed to get a magical shield in front of him just in time, but it still sent him stumbling back.

The boy shouted towards the others next, "Thyrsta!" and all including Hermione, Harry and Ron were sent flying backwards.

Meanwhile, the boy turned around and said a word others failed to hear and the earth traps that held the dragon trapped vanished. But unfortunately for him, the trio got up really fast and shot curses at him. Everyone of those was wasted as they were stopped by the dragon pushing the boy and herself out of their ways. The boy turned around again, his dark eyes flashing and face frowning. He raised his hand, the mark starting to shine again, but he never uttered the spell. His dark brown eyes met Harry's bright green eyes and they both lowered their hands.

"You're just children," the boy said quietly, his eyes softening ever so slightly as the dragon relaxed just a bit.

"So are you," retorted Harry, offended by the fact that he thought him a child after all he'd been through. He had to remember that the boy didn't _know_.

Before the boy could respond, Snape stood up and sent a wordless hex towards the dragon just as Madam Pomfrey rushed to the scene.

"Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed as the dragon soundlessly - the silencing charm was still affecting her - roared in pain because of the gash that Snape made over her chest.

It wasn't deep but it was long and was bleeding quite bad. Now, the boy was furious. His eyes flashed in such pure rage that all took a subconscious step back. He shot a three fireballs in a row towards the three Professors and sent a gust of a wind towards the other four, knocking them out of the way. The dragoness whipped her tail towards them, her eyes narrowed to slits. The Professors, however, were tough. They stepped out of the way and shot spells back.

" _Stupefy!_ "

" _Sectumsempra!_ "

" _Protego!_ "

The boy was once again pushed out of the harm's way by the dragon, the red light and white light - shot by Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape respectively - hitting her cheek while the three fireballs bounded off Dumbledore's shield and missed her. One of them grazed the boy's abdomen, though, and he hissed in pain.

"Letta!" he barked out and Snape was frozen. The boy seemed to dislike the Potions Master the most. But he wasn't done yet. "Kausta!" He continued and waved his hand.

Seven wands flew to his feet - Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Ron, Hermione and Harry's. He said the former word again and all the other six found themselves frozen as well. The boy closed his eyes, as if concentrating on something.

And then came the _pain_. Harry felt something cut through his head, no, his very mind and he heard himself scream. Out of the corner of his eye he saw others try to hold their heads and heard them scream. Suddenly, he felt memories flood his mind.

 _"_ _Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"_

Not his parents' death, no! He didn't want to hear it again!

" _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —_ "  
" _This is my last warning —_ "  
" _Not Harry! Please... have mercy... Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything_ _—"_

Not that, no!

 _"You're a freak!"_

He wasn't!

 _"Your mother died to save you."_

He knew that! He was going to die now and her sacrifice will go in vain...

 _"Harry Potter must NOT go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year!"_

He wanted it to stop!

 _"You're a Parselmouth! Why didn't you tell us?... Now the whole school is gonna think you're his great-great-great-grandson or something."_  
 _"But I'm not! I can't be."_

Were others screaming as much as he did?

 _"I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!"_

He wanted it to stop...

 _"I never betrayed Lily and James. I would have died before I betrayed them."_

Of course Sirius didn't betray them... Wormtail did...!

 _"Kill the spare!"_

No! Not again! He didn't want to see Cedric's lifeless eyes staring at emptiness again! He started fighting the memories once more.

 _"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."_

... Stop...

 _"We're not going through clouds! We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"_

That something in his mind was digging deeper.

 _"He's not a child!"_  
 _"He's not an adult either! He's not_ _ **James**_ _, Sirius!"_

He had not much energy left to fight the memories flooding his mind. He suddenly found himself flailing in midair, the magic holding him subsiding and whatever it was in his mind slowly starting to retreat. Coughing and a soft voice reached his ears.

"Saphira... stop... they... don't kno-" The voice coughed again.

 _"Cornelius, I implore you to see reason! The evidence that the Dark Lord has returned is incontrovertible!"_  
 _"He is NOT back!"_

"Th-they were... jus'..." More coughs. "...prot-tecting t-themselves..." The coughing was extremely hard now and Harry found himself worrying for the person's health.

 _"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF …"_

Now the memories were almost distant, like long-not-heard-but-never-forgotten voices and the voice talking was stronger.

"Stop."

 _"I am very much looking forwa-"_

The memories stopped as abruptly as they had begun. Harry opened his eyes and found and odd sight in front of him.

The boy was no longer standing tall and strong as he did before. He was on all his fours and coughs were wrecking his body. One of his muddy hands was in front his mouth trying to stop the blood that he was coughing out and a small puddle of blood formed under him. Skin on his abdomen where the fire grazed him was red and raw.  
The dragon was standing over him protectively, her head snaked around the boy and her eyes wide in worry. She gurgled softly.  
The wizards and witches' wands were still laying next to them. The boy's coughs finally somehow subsided and he raised his head. He eyed them warily, but he did not attack again. Nor did the dragon. He leaned onto the dragon's paw and observed them. Harry massaged his temples in attempt to relieve the stranger spoke a few minutes later.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was hoarse from yelling and lack of water, but they could all tell it was relatively deep, slightly musical and had light northern accent. "For-for attacking you," he coughed out blood again.

Harry slowly stepped forward, caution in his every step.

"Harry, no!" Hissed Hermione.

He didn't listen to her. He continued until he stopped a bit over three feet in front of the stranger. The latter offered him a small smile.

"You're a brave one," he said, a curious glint in his eyes. "Harry, right?"

The said boy was taken aback. The boy couldn't possibly hear Hermione say his name. She spoke too quietly. Harry nodded, still aghast. The stranger looked at the dragon pointedly, she let out something that sounded like a sigh and rolled the wands closer to the boy with her snout. He picked them up and offered him to Harry with a neutral face.

"You can take them, you know," he said after Harry hesitated. "I wouldn't be offering them to you if I didn't want you to have them back.  
"And I would appreciate it if you took them. My ribs aren't agreeing with my movements."

Harry carefully took the wands from the boy's hand and the latter quickly let his hand drop with a sigh of relief.

"Why did you attack us?" Harry asked curiously.

The boy let out a dry chuckle. "When you live through what Saphira and I did, you strike first and then ask questions. It is a simple instinct of survival."

"Then why did you stop? We didn't say anything that made you sure we weren't your enemies."

 _Your memories spoke for yourself, young one._

At the alien voice in his head Harry flinched and jumped back, looking around franticaly. From the corner of his eye he saw others do similarly. The boy just seemed torn between exasperation and anger.

"Saphira!" he scolded with a glare for the dragon. "You know you can't do that. They don't know you can't speak!"

"The dragon can speak?" Dumbledore asked, watching the boy over his half moon spectacles.

 _I most certainly can._

It was that voice again. They were more prepared for it that time, but they all still flinched.

 _And my name is Saphira. I would appreciate if you called me by it._

Dumbledore recovered first. "Greetings, Saphira. I am Albus Dumbledore."

"We know," answered the boy. He gestured to the others. "You're Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley-"

 _-Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey and-_

"-Severus Snape."

Their eyes, Harry knew, were wide as saucers. How could they possibly know? They didn't even know them and yet, they knew their names. It was Ron, however, that voiced their thoughts.

"How did you know?" He asked incredulously.

 _Like I said, your memories spoke for yourselves, hatchling._

"Y-you were the ones that triggered the review of our m-memories?" asked Hermione.

"It was the easiest way to determine if you were our enemies or not," answered the boy.

 _And, we were angry._

"There is one thing we don't understand, though," frowned the boy in confusion. "You have strange titles."

"Titles?" asked Dumbledore politely, but Harry could tell he was somewhat puzzled.

"What you have after your names. Most people call me Shadeslayer," he paused to massage his torso. "Or Kingkiller."

"You've slayed a shade?" sneered Snape mockingly. "What an accomplishemet!"

Neither the boy nor the dragon - Saphira, her name was _Saphira_ \- responded to his remark. The others ignored it as well.

"We use surnames here," explained Hermione.

"Yes, it stands behind our name and it helps us determine our families. Usually, if you have the same surname as someone else, you belong to the same family."

"Oh." The boy's face brightened considerably. "Then you can call me Bromsson," he said as he stuck out his hand for them to shake. "Eragon Bromsson."

* * *

 **So, I've made myself a deadline for this chapter and I didn't stick to it (bad EA4E, bad). But I really wasn't that late beacuse my deadline was yesterday. It was actually my birthday, sooo...**  
 **Anyway, I kinda liked writing this chapter. It most cerainly was interesting for the characters ;)**

 **Answers to your reviews:**

 **Peyton: I'm glad that you find it interesting. I hope that Saphira's (and everyone else's) reaction(s) were satisfactory to you. And to your questions - yes, I do plan on taking this through Deathly Hallows and I don't really have and update schedule (as you can see).**

 **Guest reviewer: Thank you for your wishes! I have the last test tomorrow (I should probably go learn xD) and I hope you liked this chapter.**

 **Love,**

 **EA4E.**


	4. Chapter 4: Decisions Come with Price

**Hey!**

 **Look! I'm alive! i know it's been almost a mont since I last updated and I'm sorry, but this document got half-destroyed (half of what I wrote just diappeared) and then I just had no will to write. But, I've finally finished it and here it is...**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer:** _I forgot to write it in the last chapter, but I think it's obvious tht the brilliances called Inheritance and Harry Potter don't belong to me. they belong to Christopher Paolini and J.K. Rowling._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4: Decisions Come with Price**

 _It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped._

 _ **-Tony Robbins**_

* * *

 _They certainly are an interesting group,_ thought Eragon in mild amusement as he watched the people in front of him.

Three Professors, two of them with a dark past - one hiding it behind a bright and carefree demeanor, whereas the other one didn't try to conceal it, but chose to be cold and a bully.

A healer that treated the weirdest of wounds without so much as asking how the injured got it.

And, of course he mustn't forget the three teenagers.

A redheaded boy that originated from a poor but kind family.

A bushy-haired girl that was incredibly bright and didn't even know of her potential until she was eleven - much like the third boy.

Now, the messy-haired boy was an interesting one. He had experienced things no one no matter the age should have to. And yet, he remained loving and caring beyond possible. Eragon decided that he liked him.

 _I like him, too,_ hummed Saphira, the vibration in her chest making Eragon relax. _He's had some difficulties in his life, though. After seeing his memories I'm glad that nest-master-Garrow treated you right._

 _I've never thought of it that way,_ he answered thoughtfully. _But, I'm glad, too._

"Mr. Bromsson?" a pleasant voice brought them both out of their private musings.

They looked up – or rather, he did, Saphira had to look down - at Albus Dumbledore, who was smiling warmly at him.

"I apologize," Eragon said. "We were lost in our thoughts. What did you ask?"

"Do you mind telling us something about yourself?" the old man asked. "You know most thing about us, you, however, are a mystery to us."

The Blue Rider tipped his head as he studied Dumbledore and others.

 _They want to be on equal ground,_ he noted, the situation humoring him despite himself.

 _Well, can you honestly blame them?_ replied Saphira, though with a hint of amusement in her voice. _We broke into their minds. We know their memories, feelings, practically everything, whereas all they have about us are our names. And names can be made up. You know I speak from experience._

He sent her an equivalent of a nod with his mind while he answered Dumbledore, "Of course," he said. "Ask away."

The old man conjured up seven comfortable-looking chairs, making Eragon and Saphira's curiosity peak, but they didn't show it. The seven people sat down on them, though their wands, Eragon noticed, were still at arm's reach so that they had no trouble getting them should it come in need. Snape even gripped his tightly, refusing to relax. The dislike the Lead Rider felt for the Potions Master seemed mutual, then.

Eragon patiently waited for the others to speak, though the pain in his ribs and arm was getting stronger and realer with every second passing. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to let out a sound of pain.

Dumbledore was the first one to break the tense silence, "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he answered, maintaining the eye contact with the bright blue eyes of Dumbledore's.

"You're just a child, then," he said, quickly hiding his surprise behind a mask of calmness.

"I am an adult by my people's standards and yours. I am no child, nor have I been one since Saphira's hatched for me," he replied defensively.

They were all taken aback by his cool, almost cold, reply, but surprise showed only on the younger ones' faces.

"But by our standards, you should be in school," said Minerva McGonagall, her tone terse.

"We both finished our education a year ago, deemed so by our masters – or Professors, as you call them."

It took them a whole minute to respond.

"Where are your parents, boy?" growled Snape, tightening his grip on his wand. It was obvious that he tried to provoke Eragon by labeling him of nothing more than a child. Saphira glared at him and let out a low growl, but Eragon rubbed her cheek to calm her.

"Dead."

And everything was silent once again.

"I'm sorry for your loss," offered the black-haired boy, Harry. Understanding shone clearly in his eyes, while the other two teenagers were looking sympathetic, but not even close to understanding.

 _Well, he's never met his parents either, has he?_ Eragon thought sadly.

 _You've met your father, Little One,_ Saphira reminded him gently.

 _That doesn't mean that I knew him,_ he retorted. _Harry hasn't either. The only difference is, that their reasons were nowhere near similar._

She had no answer to that.

"I've made my peace with it," he said, tilting his head with his eyes softening as he looked at the boy. "As have you, haven't you?"

"This, I will not allow," huffed McGonagall angrily. "You have no right to ask him such questions."

Before Eragon or Saphira – who didn't seem too pleased with the said Professor – could answer her, Harry interrupted, "It's alright, Professor." He gave her a reassuring nod before turning his head back to the dragon and her Rider. "Did your parents die when you were a baby, too?"

He found himself at a loss of words at the boy and because of the pain increasing in his chest.

 _Well, that's a first one for you,_ teased Saphira warmly – though there was worry in her voice – and a second later answered Harry, _That's a story for another time, hatchling._ Eragon felt a wave of immense gratefulness for Saphira wash over him and he allowed himself to close his eyes for a second, his pulse increasing. _Now_ _ **I**_ _have a question._ Saphira's voice was strong, but it sounded so comforting to him that he felt himself slowly losing consciousness. Black dots were dancing in his sight and his mind was becoming fuzzier. _Where are we?_

"We're at Hogwarts' grounds in Scotland," replied Hermione.

Eragon's confusion and slight worry mingled with Saphira's. Albeit she was the one that responded. _Is it near Alagaësia?_

His breathing was becoming shallower and more rapid but it was quiet and no one else but Saphira noticed it. Her snout creeped closer to his shivering shirtless body and her eyes were softly shinning in worry. She didn't say a word, though.

"What is Alagaësia?" added Ronald, looking just as confused.

It took a moment or two for the statement and the wizards' puzzled faces to register into Eragon's fuzzy mind. But once they did, he turned his head – which was previously facing Dumbledore – towards the young redheaded wizard sharply. But, unfortunately for him, his ribs weren't agreeing with his movement. He fell forward with pain burning in his ribs and tasting blood in his mouth. His right arm instantly clutched his ribs while his left arm tried – and failed – to support his weight. It buckled and he found himself with his body pressed in the moist and cool ground of the forest. But it felt nice – the cool ground eased his pain somewhat.

The wizards and witches – excluding Snape – were immediately at his side, the mediwitch being the first one. Saphira who was standing protectively over him and managing to look threatening and worried even with her wings broken did little to hinder their worry for his condition. Poppy Pomfrey was touching his shoulder lightly while she examined his broken arm. She said something to the old wizard, but it was too soft for Eragon to hear.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Bromsson," Dumbledore's voice came floating to his ears as if from miles away, but Eragon could hear the worry in it. "I've forgotten that you're injured. Let us take you to Hogwarts and heal you."

Saphira, however, had no trouble reaching him. _Eragon, you have to heal yourself._

 _I can't…_ He had trouble making coherent thoughts. _My magic… it'll… scare… them._

 _To hell with that,_ she retorted fiercely. _You know we can fight them off. I won't lose you because of it! Heal yourself, Eragon!_ _ **Now!**_

He raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's. "It's alright," he rasped slowly. "I… can do… it."

He pushed himself upwards on his knees – with a little assistance from the wand-wielders and the energy Saphira sent across their link –, assembled the spell he would use in his head, reminded himself of the right pronouncement of some words and started chanting in the Ancient language.

* * *

Harry was not the only one that jumped back from Eragon as the silver mark on the said boy's started shinning again. Eragon was saying something in some weird language and Harry found himself reaching for his wand yet again. But that time, it was different than the last time Eragon had used the strange language. Shinning blue magic wrapped around the dragon's companion's torso and left arm. They could all hear Eragon's bones snap back in place and the bruise on his chest disappeared. His arm no longer bent under a weird angle and the skin on his stomach that was red and raw before became pale and smooth once again. He stood up, his tall and lean form looking intimidating. He said something in the strange language once again and the magic healed Saphira's broken wings, healed the gash on her cheek and chest and washed the grime off of both of them.

And if they looked fearsome and terrifying before, it was nothing compared to what they looked like now. Eragon, though he looked small next to Saphira's large but slim form, was tall, at least as much as Dumbledore if not even taller. On the contrary to the Hogwarts' Headmaster, however, he wasn't thin but lean and muscular. He had strong relatively broad shoulders, which tips of his dark brown hair brushed. Harry felt that Eragon just lacked the sword that he had with him when they found him in the forest to look even more powerful than he already did.

Saphira next to him looked intimidating with her sapphire blue scales refracting what little light there was in the Forbidden Forest and her head held highly. She was flapped her wings a few times, sending gusts of wind in Harry and the others. She was a beautiful sight to behold.

Nevertheless, he still held a grip on his wand as did the others, because they didn't know if they'll attack again or not.

"What kind of Dark Magic is this?" growled Snape. Harry noticed that he was gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Well, of course you'd know everything about Dark Magic, but this isn't," said Eragon, not much kindlier than the Potions' Master. "This is _my_ magic or Gramarye. But don't worry, I won't hurt you with it." Saphira gently growled in agreement – or at least, Harry hoped it was agreement.

"Your magic?" repeated Hermione, dumbfounded. "You have different kind of magic?"

 _Of course he does_ , Saphira answered flatly. _You don't see him waving a stick around and yelling something senseless out, do you?_

In Harry's opinion, Saphira's description of their magic was surprisingly accurate.

Dumbledore seemed to agree, though he didn't let go of his wand. "A most fitting description, Saphira," he said, his eyes twinkling in amusement. Saphira hummed. "But how does your magic work?"

The dragon and her companion looked at each other. "Well," Eragon began, turning back to them. "I have a pool of energy inside me and to use my magic, I have to access it."

"And the strange language you use while doing it?" asked Professor McGonagall.

 _That's Ancient language. One cannot lie in it. By using it we use the true name of an object and thus calling it to our aid. For example, brisingr means fire._

"Everything is a bit hard to explain, really," said Eragon, rubbing his temples. It must had been causing him a terrible headache. "The energy inside us has its limits and if you cross them or come too close to them, you drain of any energy and you die or lose consciousness."

Harry had a strong suspicion that Eragon partly spoke from experience.

 _But, one can share energy with another being. For example, Eragon and I can lend it to each other as long as our minds are connected._

"Your _minds_?" asked Ron incredulously, his face horrified. The prospect of sharing his mind with another living being seemed to scare him.

 _He must've forgotten that he has a friend that shares a similar bond with the darkest wizard of all time,_ Harry thought humorlessly.

Meanwhile, Eragon sent a light glare towards the sapphire dragon. "You had to," he accused. "You just _had_ to, didn't you?"

In response, she puffed smoke into his face. She turned her head towards them gracefully, watching them sit back into the armchairs. _Back in Alagaësia_ , she paused. It seemed that the thought of Alagaësia, whatever or wherever it was, brought her pain. _There are people that-_

"-ride astride dragons. They're called Dragon Riders."

 _A few get chosen by a dragon and when they do they are treated with respect._

"You see, when a dragon lays an egg, Elder Dragon Riders perform a spell on it – with the mother's consent, of course –, a spell that prevents the dragon in egg from hatching until they sense their chosen Rider. And when the dragon hatches and the Rider touches him or her, a mark appears on the Rider's hand," Eragon held up his right hand where the oval-shaped mark was.

 _It is called Gedwëy Ignasia or Shinning Palm in common language. Once the Rider is marked, there is no returning. We are one,_ she said and nuzzled Eragon with such love and affection that made Harry realize that even if Eragon didn't have his parents, he wasn't alone or unloved. The Rider responded just as affectionately, hugging his dragon's snout. _A bond creates between the dragon and the Rider and we are able to hear each other's thoughts and communicate in this way, too._

Harry had trouble following their switched talking – the pair didn't even seem to notice –, but he managed to keep up and suddenly, a thought entered his mind and even if it wasn't a nice one, he had to ask, "And if one dies?"

All people present, even Snape, in the clearing turned their heads towards the young wizard. Saphira, especially, had such an intensity in her eyes that Harry started wishing that he hadn't asked the question.

"We do not wish to live without each other, though some do," answered Eragon softly, his hand gripping one of Saphira's spikes. It answered his question quite nicely.

Silence ruled over the clearing as everyone was lost in their thoughts.

Eragon eventually broke it. "How did we get here?" he asked.

Hermione tilted her head. "You don't remember?"

The Dragon Rider pair shook their heads and Saphira answered, _The last thing we remember is that we were in the middle of a storm and we hit a patch of light. From there on, everything is somewhat blurry._

"Well, you fell from a patch of light," offered Ron. "And landed in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, where we found you and took you," he nodded towards Eragon. "to the hospital wing."

Eragon inclined his head. "Thank you for that."

 _Though it did little good,_ added Saphira bluntly, causing Eragon to send another glare towards her. Madam Pomfrey huffed, offended by the sapphire dragoness' statement.

"Forgive her," Eragon apologized for his dragon, who refused to regret her statement, holding her head high. "She gives her opinion no matter the consequences and refuses to apologize for it later."

The young Rider ran a hand through his hair in attempt to soothe his nerves and he revealed strange fact about himself.

Pointed ears.

The witches gasped at them and he looked at them in confusion.

"Your ears, Mr. Bromsson," explained Dumbledore kindly. "Your ears are pointed."

Realization crossed Eragon's face. "Oh, that." He ran his hand through hair nervously. "That is kind of amusing story, actually." He cleared his throat rather awkwardly. "I'm kind of a hybrid between a human and an elf."

"Elf?" repeated Professor McGonagall with a sniff. "I find it hard to believe that one of your parents was a small creature that is considered a slave in the wizarding world."

Hermione bristled at her words and opened her mouths to say something, but Harry and Ron send her looks that made her shut her mouth.

Eragon let out a dry chuckle. "If you're referring to the poor creatures your kind's so brutally enslaved, then no. In our world, elves are creatures similar to humans but immortal, with pointed ears, fairer features and better abilities. But, my parents were both fully human, at least to my knowledge. No, this," he gestured to his face and ears. "and improvement of my senses were dragons' doing. "

 _He was a human 'til his sixteenth year,_ said Saphira. _Dark-creature-Shade, Durza-_

"Oh, so now Shades have _names_?" drawled Snape. "Please, do tell, what a shade is."

 _Now, I would watch out,_ _ **Sev**_ _,_ Saphira snapped back at him, making Eragon, who was sitting next to her, snicker. Because of a reason that was unknown to Harry Snape paled to the point where he looked like death. _We're not just some students you can bully and put in detention. It would do you well to remember that._

"But since you did ask _so nicely_ ," said Eragon sarcastically and with a nasty glare for the Potions' Master. "and to get this question out of our way, Shade is a dark creature that knows not love nor friendship. It is merciless and bloodthirsty. It is what used to be a person for a Shade is made by spirits taking control of one's body and increasing his or her abilities. It can use magic like mine, only it is darker, and its battling abilities nearly match an elf's." He looked at Professor Snape again, his eyes challenging, daring him to say something else.

However, the greasy-haired man stayed silent.

 _So, as I was saying before I got interrupted,_ continued Saphira airily. _Dark-creature-Shade-Durza inflicted a horrible scar on Eragon's back before he killed the wretched being._

"The scar caused me pain every time I over-exerted or strained myself and during a celebration of the bond made between the dragons and the Dragon Riders, the reflection of their race changed me, healed all of any scars I've ever got and gave me abilities that I've thought unnatural before. And so it is that I look like an elf, though I was born human."

"So…" began to summarize Harry. "You're what used to be a human, but with more beautiful features and better abilities?"

"Pretty much, yes," nodded the young man, his brown eyes serious as he tilted his head to side, observing them – Harry, especially – with unnerving intensity. "But your world is in a war and _you're_ the middle of it all."

They looked at him, aghast.

Saphira and her Rider chuckled. _You seem to forget that we've seen your minds quite quickly,_ noted Saphira playfully. _Do give us some credit. We're not idiots, you know. We recognize a war when someone describes it._

* * *

"How?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Eragon sighed and shifted uneasily. "Well, we were in one, for a start," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

Ron choked. "You were in a war?" he asked, baffled.

 _Yes,_ sighed Saphira impatiently. _Now, do we look like a pair of useless babbling idiots to you?_

They all shook their heads, even Snape. Eragon felt touched.

 _Good. Then stop acting like we do._

"You were the heroes, too, weren't you?" asked Harry with calmness that was unnerving for a fifteen-year-old.

Eragon closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Yes. We were the people's newfound hope."

"Did you win?" Ron inquired.

 _Yes, but at terrible costs._

There were so many casualties, Eragon remembered sadly.

Garrow. Brom. Ajihad. Quimby. Hrothgar. Kvîstor. Oromis. Glaedr's body. Wyrden. Islanzadí. And many more, whose names he didn't even know. They had all died for what he awoke in them.

There was grave silence as the wizards and witches let them grieve the losses for a minute.

"What will you do now, Mr. Bromsson, Saphira?" asked Dumbledore softly. "You do not know how to return to your home, do you?"

"No, we do not."

"Well, you're welcome to stay at Hogwarts for however long you wish," offered the old wizard. "as long as you promise to not hurt any of the students living in the castle."

"We would never. Vel einradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

 _Vel einradhin iet ai Skulblaka._

"So, will you stay with us?" asked Harry, his green eyes shining brightly.

Eragon thought about it. He was hesitant to simply forget his friends and family back in Alagaësia.

 _We won't forget them_ , Eragon, Saphira's gentle voice swept through his head. _We will simply live our own lives._

 _But we cannot just-_

 _We can, Little One. It is time that we start living our own lives. For the past two years we have let duty control and drive us. Since I've hatched all I did was fight. I want to_ _ **live**_ _, Eragon. We must_ _ **learn**_ _to live._

 _But the eggs-_

 _Arya and Fírnen will take care of the eggs, as will the Eldunarya._

 _They'll think we're dead._

 _We can attempt to contact them, but we cannot return to Alagaësia. There's no way. They're strong, Little One. They'll survive, as will we._

 _I cannot fight another war, Saphira. Not after we've just finished one._

 _We're a dragon and a Dragon Rider,_ she whispered in his mind. _We are the peacekeepers, we stand between the light and the dark and keep the balance between the two._

He had to smile as she told him what Oromis had once told him. But it quickly disappeared from his face as he realized what he was about to do. He raised his head skywards and closed his eyes.

 _Arya, Roran, Katrina, Ismira, Murtagh, Nasuada, Orik, I'm sorry,_ he whispered to himself. _But this is something we have to do._

He looked at the anticipating wizards and witches and together, he and Saphira, said, " _We'll stay._ "

* * *

 **Aaand so begins our adventure. Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed. But I really had to hurry because I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow and I wanted to post this chapter before that. I hope you liked it.**

 ** _Vel einradhin iet ai Shur'tugal. - Upon my word as a Dragon Rider._**

 ** _Vel einradhin iet ai Skulblaka. - Upon my word as a dragon._**

 **So, here are answers to your reviews:**

 **Cynder2013: I know, right? But I think they thought that Shadeslayer was more ridiculous.**

 **Guest reviewer: I'm glad you loved it! And my test went well, thank you.**

 **Peyton: I've always wanted to see Snape get what he deserved, too. I hope your question was answered in this chapter, but if not, yes, Eragon adn Saphira do know about Lilly and Snape.**

 **Guest reviewer: I'm so glad you liked it! :) But, no, I didn't mispell latter becaouse it means the second of two people, things, or groups previously mentioned.**

 **Quintain Apprentince of Alduin: I understand your point, but Eragon and Saphira were injured and wanted to make peace with them, not cause another fight with the wizards. There was some good hate between Sanpe and Eragon &Saphira. Hope you liked it.**

 **Awesomepants: THANK YOU! :D I'll try to make it as long and enjoyable as possible. And you can be assured that I won't pair Arya with Harry or Eragon with Ginny, though I do think the latter two would make good friends. And I'm sorry that the description of Umbridge didn't come in this chapter. I'll do my best to put it in the next chapter. But I do hope that a Shade's description was satisfactionary.**

 **Random Guest: I'm so glad you think that way :D Thank you.**

 **Zek: Thank you. :D**

 **Love,**

 **EA4E.**


	5. Chapter 5:Trouble-Magnet

**Hello!**

 **I know, I know - you have every right to strangle me right now. but just a hint, I won't be able to write anymore if you do so.**

 **but without future ado...**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer:** _No, I do not own them. If I did, half of the characters would still be alive and Snape would go through a lot more hell._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5: Trouble-Magnet**

 _If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn't sit for a month.  
_

 ** _-Theodore Roosevelt_**

* * *

Looking at the castle of - what the teens told him to be - Hogwarts, Eragon had to admit that only a few places he had seen in his seventeen years could match its beauty and magnificence, Ellesméra and the palace of Ilirea most definitely being a couple of them.

Suddenly, he felt Saphira's – for the lack of better word – bad mood seep into his mind, but she didn't say a word.

 _Care to elaborate on that?_ he asked in amusement, though he already knew where the problem lay.

She harrumphed but refused to answer.

 _But, Saphira,_ he said, his tone serious, almost solemn. _You know there's no one and nothing in the world that's more beautiful than you. You're the prettiest of them all._

He instantly felt her mood improve, a wave of her affection for him crashing on his mind. _Thank you, little one_ , she said, humming, but in the back of her mind, he could feel worry gnawing at her.

 _Saphira,_ he said warmly, enveloping – or trying to – her mind with his own, soothing her. _You know nothing will happen to me. I will be fine_.

 _You don't know that,_ she half-heartedly snapped back at him. _They gave no oaths, nothing to guarantee me that they won't hurt you._

 _Do you really think I cannot fend for myself?_ he asked her,half-hurt by her words.

 _It's not that,_ she answered flatly, her voice holding just the smallest hint of remorse. _There are seven of them and you're only one. You're powerful, but you have to remember that the heart-of-heart's aren't with us. We only have our own energy and what is saved within Aren and Brisingr._

 _Saphira,_ he soothed gently. _They won't hurt me and if they do –_ at that he felt her growl out loud _– well, I pity those who will stand in your way when you'll be trying to get to me._ A wave of approval emitted from Saphira at his words. _Besides, you made sure that they won't try to even lay a finger on me, remember?_ he added cheerfully, corners of his mouth quirking up at the memory.

* * *

 _Dumbledore stood up with liveliness that could make a younger man jealous and clapped his hands together. "What do you say, should we go up to the castle and get something to eat?" he said, eyes sparkling. "I'm starving, if I do say so myself. I missed quite a delicious dinner because of your unexpected arrival, Mr. Bromsson, Saphira."_

 _Eragon, who had stood up by now, dusted dirt off his pants and gave a small bow. "I, myself apologize, though I wouldn't expect an apology from Saphira," he answered, eyes twinkling in amusement as he dodged Saphira's tail. "But please, stop with the Mr. Bromsson nonsense. I am no mister, Eragon will do."_

 _"Very well then, Eragon, shall we go?"_

 _The others stood up as well and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore made the armchairs disappear. Eragon, however, felt Saphira's worry for him seep into his mind. He sent her calming thoughts and a smile, but it did little to calm her._

 _She stomped forward, her steps making the ground tremble, and stopped in front of the seven wizards. Her intense sapphire blue eyes stared into pairs of green, blue, brown and black eyes - not threateningly at all - as she spoke,_ I don't trust you. Not yet at least, _she added after a few seconds._ If any of you, especially you, _one of her eyes focused solely on Snape._ even dare to hurt my Rider, I promise you that you won't have time to regret it. I will not hesitate to burn down your castle and rip you apart if it comes to it - and that is barely the beginning. Watch your actions. _She paused._ I would.

 _The wizards - each and every one of them - gulped and slowly nodded, their mortified expression highly amusing._

 _Eragon, however, had no reason to fear Saphira's threats. He, too, stepped forward and sent a glare towards his dragon. "Saphira," he chided out loud. "Can you_ _ **not**_ _scare people even more than you already did?"_

 _She pointedly ignored him. Instead, she kept staring at the humans._ I mean it, _she said. She held their gaze for whole five minutes. Then, humming, she went back to her previous spot and lay down._

 _Eragon sighed, but he knew it was pointless to argue with her, so he stepped to her and removed her saddle with practiced ease. Then, he took an apple, a spare tunic and a sheathed dagger that the elves that had travelled with him had given him out of the saddlebags, before sending the saddle and the bags into the air pocket above his head. He bit in the apple, holding it in-between his teeth, put on the tunic and stuffed the dagger in his boot. At the inquiring gazes of the wizards he shrugged nonchalantly and started chewing the apple. "Just in case," he mumbled._

 _He pointed towards where he hoped was Hogwarts' direction. "Shall we?" he asked as he sent Saphira feelings of love and affection._ See you soon.

Don't get into too much trouble, _she snorted, sending puffs of smoke into the air._

* * *

Saphira, too, chuckled at the memory. _I was being nice,_ she said airily and Eragon resisted the urge to snort. _I didn't even bare my teeth or growl._

He mock sighed before he gave in. _Fine, I'll give you that._

 _Good boy,_ Saphira praised mockingly and he could sense her amusement and contentment. _All you have to know with me is when to give up in argument, which is in every one._

 _No one can ever win an argument with you, my dearest Saphira,_ he said. _I've yet to see one have the last word with you. Well,_ he added thoughtfully after a few seconds. _Perhaps with the exception of Angela._

Saphira's sadness seeped into his mind. _You know, even if I do not understand her very much, I'm going to miss that bemusing ageless witch._

 _Me too,_ he answered, his tone sorrowful. _She makes things that happen interesting, if a little eccentric._

With fondness and a little puzzlement he thought back to the last conversation he had with Angela.

" _Haven't had your fill of interesting events yet?"  
"Never. They are the spice of life." She held up her half-finished hat. "How do you like it?"  
"It's nice. The blue is pretty. But what do the runes say?"  
"Raxacori- Oh, never mind. It wouldn't mean a thing to you anyway. Safe travels to you and Saphira, Eragon. And remember to watch out for earwigs and wild hamsters. Ferocious things, wild hamsters."_

 _Safe travels,_ snorted Eragon to himself. _Oh, the irony._ And then he quietly asked Saphira, _Do you think we'll ever see them again?_

She knew who he was referring to without him telling her.

 _I…,_ she hesitated. She was quiet for a whole minute and she appeared troubled. _I think that hope dies last, little one,_ she said at last.

He was spared from answering her by Dumbledore, who looked at him and said, "We're here."

And true to his words, they were standing in front of – now closed – gate Eragon had blasted open when he was searching for Saphira.

* * *

Eragon looked … saddened, or at least it seemed so to Harry. He gazed at Hogwarts with a mix of nostalgia and amazement. And Harry wasn't the only one to notice it.

"Mr- I mean, E-Eragon, are you alright?" asked Hermione carefully, her voice holding a barely noticeable shake.

Eragon looked at her blankly for a second. Then he shook his head, making his brown waves of hair fall forward, effectively hiding his face from the view. When he raised his head there was a smile – that was highly unconvincing – on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered evenly, his eyes holding no emotions from before. "I was just thinking."

Harry had a feeling that the young man wouldn't appreciate it too much if they asked what he was thinking about. No one did.

Instead, Dumbledore stepped forward and the others followed, their footfalls echoing around the Entrance Hall. Eragon looked around in amazement, his eyes showing nothing but awe at the great castle.

"Beautiful," he breathed out. "Just … stunning."

Snape, who was walking next to Dumbledore, scoffed at the Dragon Rider before he turned to Dumbledore. "If you're in no need of my presence anymore, Headmaster, I shall take my leave." And without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heels and walked towards the dungeons.

Madam Pomfrey sent a reprimanding look at the Professor's retreating back before she said, "I should leave, too. The patients won't heal by themselves, after all." She turned her head to face Eragon with dignified grace. "I take it you're in no need of my healing skills, anymore?"

Eragon gave a short but respectful bow, oddly twisting his hand over his heart and shook his head while smiling politely. "No, thank you, ma'am. I think I can take care of myself just fine. I will be by the infirmary shortly, though. I need to get Brisingr."

"Brisingr?" asked Professor McGonagall, her mouth becoming a thin line and her hand clutching her wand.

"My sword," explained Eragon shortly. When they gave him blank looks – or looks of disbelief – he continued, "You know, that blue metal thing I had with me when I arrived. It's usually used for fighting."

 _Though it could make an excellent toothpick as well,_ added Saphira jokingly.

"We know what a sword _is_ , thank you very much," answered Harry. "But, you _named_ your _sword_?"

It was Eragon's turn to give them blank looks. He recovered quickly, though. "Right," he said after a moment, slapping his forehead. "You don't know about Riders' swords." Under his breath he slowly murmured something that sounded like "you're not from Alagaësia", before he continued, "A Dragon Rider gets-" he paused and just for a second, pain flashed in his eyes. "When a Dragon Rider reached a certain stage in their training, an elven smith Rhunön forged the Rider a sword that fit their fighting style and matched their dragon's color. The Rider would than name it and often it was in the Ancient language – there was, pardon, is Zar'roc, which means misery or Islingr – Light-Bringer which was later renamed in Vrangr, meaning awry, or my own, Brisingr which means fire."

"Wait," said Hermione, eyes glinting curiously as they always did when she was in class. "Why are you talking in past tense?"

Eragon gave her a smile – a sad and tired one, but a smile nonetheless. "You're very observant and very bright, Hermione-finiaril." Hermione blushed, but he just sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "There- there was war and the Riders turned on each other. They killed each other and the dragons – as well as Dragon Riders – became almost extinct. Me and Saphira – we are one of the three living Dragon-Rider pairs and Saphira is the only female dragon currently alive. And after all the slaughter that was done with the swords she forged, Rhunön" – a weak smirk appeared on Eragon's face as he said the name – "vowed to never forge weapons of destruction, ever again."

"You come from a very strange land, Eragon Bromsson," said Dumbledore after a pregnant pause.

Inside their heads, Saphira snorted and Harry had to resist the urge to flinch. _You can say that again._

They were all quiet for a couple of minutes before professor McGonagall spoke. "Regardless, I must get these three to their dormitory before our dear Inquisitor comes hurling down the hall." She stuck her nose high in the air and sniffed. "I would like to get some sleep tonight and rest my bones. I really should quit fighting anytime these days." She turned to Dumbledore. "I trust you can take care of this by yourself, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, dear Minerva," he said, looking at the transfiguration Professor sympathetically. "Go ahead and rest. I'll take care of Dolores." He then focused his gaze on the Golden Trio, looking at them strictly – but only half-heartedly. "The same goes for you three. No midnight walks tonight, understood?" All three nodded hastily. "If you're hungry, I'll arrange for a house-elf to bring you some food."

As if on cue, Ron's stomach growled, making all present smile. Well, all but Hermione, who opened her mouth – probably to argue about the house-elf bringing them food – but Harry elbowed her in the stomach ever so slightly and she quickly closed it.

"Thank you, sir," said Harry gratefully.

"You're welcome," answered Dumbledore, but Harry noticed that he still wasn't making eye contact with him. And by the look on his face, so did Eragon – notice, that is. "Now, off you go."

Professor McGonagall headed for the marble staircase with brisk steps and the trio followed quickly behind. Harry looked at Eragon and Dumbledore – Madam Pomfrey had already left – over his shoulder and he caught Eragon's gaze. The Rider gave a quick bow of his head and a small smile before following Dumbledore on his way to the Headmaster's office.

They walked in silence all the way to the Gryffindor Tower, where they said goodbye to the Head of their House and entered the Common Room. It was relatively empty, save for a few older years that were doing their homework.

"So," began Hermione once they settled into their favorite armchairs by the fire. "What do you think about them?"

"Well, they're interesting, that's for sure," answered Ron. "But, bloody hell, did you see how they wiped the floor with McGonagall and Snape, not to mention _Dumbledore_?"

"Yes, Ron, we saw," replied Hermione, as she gnawed at her bottom lip. "But I'm worried." Before any of the boys could interrupt her, she continued, "It's just that … they are both so powerful and if they could take down three of Hogwarts' _most proficient_ Professors, while _injured_ , what else can they do?"

Harry could understand her fears, but for an unknown reason, he couldn't find it in himself to worry as well. "I think that they won't hurt us and I think that Dumbledore was going easy on them before," he said, partly believing in his words and partly saying them just to quell his friend's fears.

"You really think that?" asked Hermione softly, still biting her lip.

Harry nodded shortly, but firmly. "I do."

"Well, since you _are_ always right," joked Hermione, but her eyes had brightened.

Harry grumbled something incoherent under his breath, but he knew she was only teasing and he didn't resent her.

They talked and laughed for a while, losing themselves in their (probably short-lived) happiness. Harry and Ron started doing their homework, with which they were already behind despite that it was barely the second week of school year. Meanwhile, Hermione started knitting clothes for the house-elves. Ron scoffed when he saw what she was doing, but kept his mouth shut, obviously not wanting to start another fight with his friend. Besides, she looked content as she lowly hummed to herself, the knitting needles in tune with her humming.

"You know, Hermione," Ron said as he temporary put down his quill to look at his friend that raised her gaze to meet his. "I think that you might get another person to join spew."

Hermione's face lit up at his statement. "Really?" she asked excitedly. "Who?"

"Eragon."

Harry could see it, but he still sent a disapproving look at Ron. There was no need to raise Hermione's hopes only for her to have them dashed. However, their friend didn't notice their silent exchange, she was too busy thinking about her next potential victim, absent-mindedly gazing at all the other students that headed for their dormitories.

"He did seem to dislike the elves' slavery, didn't he?" she asked, more herself than everyone else.

"You can ask him tomorrow," suggested Ron, once again taking the quill in his hand and lowering his gaze on his parchment.

Before anyone could say anything more, there was a loud crack and excited squealing.

"Mister Harry Potter!"

The trio turned their heads around to look at the small creature that had Apparated into the Gryffindor Common Room. Dobby was, as always, dressed rather weirdly. He was wearing mint green jumper and pair of blood red shorts and two mismatched socks – one bright orange and the other on watermelon pink. On top of his head, between his two bat-like ears, about four colorful hats had been balanced and there were about three scarves around his neck. He was holding a silver tray, that had a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice on it in his hands. He set the tray down on a coffee table in front of them and then all but flung himself at Harry, squealing happily and the young wizard returned the hug.

"Mister Harry Potter! I is very happy to see you!" Dobby said enthusiastically and rather loudly.

"I'm glad to see you, too, Dobby," Harry answered genuinely, though he clamped a hand over the elf's mouth. "But keep it down, please?"

Dobby's large green eyes blinked twice as he nodded, making the tower of hats atop his head sway dangerously. Harry slowly withdrew his hand and placed in his lap. He observed the house-elf – who was bowing – for a few seconds, before pointing to the tray.

"Has Professor Dumbledore ordered you to bring us some food?"

Dobby nodded eagerly, looking like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut.

"You know, Dobby, when I said to keep it down, I didn't mean to be completely quiet, just to not be so loud," Harry explained as he reached for a sandwich and bit into it.

Ron and Hermione followed his lead.

Dobby's eyes widened to the point of taking over his whole face. "Yes, yes, sir, Dobby was summoned by Professor Dumbledore to his office. There was a very nice boy there, too. He treated Dobby very kindly. And then Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to bring Mister Harry Potter and his friends food and Dobby was very happy, because he gets to see Harry Potter!"

Harry had to smile at the little beasty's enthusiasm. Even if it proved to be a little hard with the sandwich in his mouth. However, he didn't get a chance to answer because Hermione interrupted him.

"Dobby, are you wearing all the hats and scarves I've knitted?" she asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Oh, no, miss," Dobby answered gleefully. "Dobby's been taking some for Winky, too, miss."

"Oh." Hermione's eyes had become their usual size.

"How is Winky?" asked Harry carefully.

"Winky is still drinking lots, sir," answered Dobby, his large green eyes looking down at the floor sadly. "She still does not care for clothes, sirs and miss. Nor do the other house-elves. None of them will clean the Gryffindor Tower anymore, not with the hats and soc-" His eyes flickered to Hermione and he instantly shut up (to be honest, Harry was rather surprised at the house-elf's tact).

But it was too late. Hermione had registered his words than Draco could say Mudblood.

"What?" she asked, her voice a few tones harsher. "What's with socks and hats?"

Dobby looked scared, to say at least. His eyes were as wide as saucers and he was fiddling with the hem of his scarf nervously. And when he spoke, his voice was even higher and squeakier than normally. "Dobby didn't say anything about hats and socks, miss. Oh, no, Dobby did not."

The house-elf was shaking his head furiously and Harry stifled down a laugh, succeeding in doing so by stuffing the sandwich in his mouth. Ron copied him.

"Yes, you did," Hermione accused. "You said that the other house-elves don't want to clean the Gryffindor Tower because of the socks anymore."

Dobby was outright frightened now, seeing as Hermione had stood up. "D-Dobby has to go, Miss Hermione Granger. Mister Harry Potter, Mister Ronny Wheezy." He bowed deeply and before any of them could say a word, he Disapparated.

Hermione hissed, half-angry, half-hurt. "Did he just say that the other house-elves don't like my clothes?" she asked.

Instead of replying, Ron and Harry, both, reached for another sandwich and Harry let out a content hum as he found out that the plate was refilling by itself.

* * *

Eragon found himself at a loss of words at the beauty of the castle.

After he and Dumbledore had left the students and their Professor, he'd followed the old Headmaster to his office. After Dumbledore had said the password (t sounded like "fizzing whizzbee") to the gargoyle and it had moved aside, letting them enter, they – or rather, he – had found himself in the Headmaster's office. And that is where he currently was.

The room was large and circular with many windows and a row of portraits along the walls. There was a claw-footed desk and a chair and a bunch of spindly-looking tables with delicate-looking sliver instruments set upon them. They were all whirring and emitting puffs of smoke. There was a large collection of books, looking very similar to Oromis' collection of scrolls. Then there was a shallow bowl, filled with a silvery substance that looked like a mix between gas and liquid. And lastly, next to the desk, there was a stand, on which a beautiful and proud-looking bird sat.

It had crimson red feathers and golden tail. Its claws and beak were gleaming gold and its eyes a piercing black. Eragon would have cringed at its gaze, had he never been on the receiving end of Saphira's stares – which were sometimes even worse.

"That's Fawkes the Phoenix, my dear companion," Dumbledore told him as Fawkes and Eragon locked their eyes.

At last, Eragon bowed and gently touched the bird's mind with his own. "Kvetha, Fawkes," he murmured, his tone kind and non-threatening. "Eka weohnata néiat haina ono un onr fricaya. Atra nosu waíse fricai."

The Phoenix regarded him for a second longer, before his gaze softened and he trilled softly. Eragon smiled at him as he felt Saphira's contentment at Fawkes' acceptance of her Rider.

"He seems to like you," Dumbledore quietly observed as he petted Fawkes' head. "It is unusual for him to do it so soon after meeting you." He smiled at Eragon mysteriously. "I suppose I would be asking in vain for translation of your statement?"

 _You suppose right,_ answered Saphira firmly. _We do need to keep some secrets._

Dumbledore smiled cryptically once again. "I think that regarding secrets you have the upper hand here, Saphira," he answered.

Eragon immediately knew what he was talking about. "Regarding whatever we saw when we broke into your minds, we promise that we won't tell anyone, whose business it is not. We would've never broken into your minds, had we not felt endangered and I'm – _we're_ sorry for that. Consider them forgotten."

The old wizard gave him a curious look. "You are a very strange young man, Eragon Bromsson," he said. "For a seventeen-year-old you have an impeccable sense of morals. Many people your age would not hesitate to use it to their advantage."

Eragon shrugged nonchalantly. "I am what I've been made – nothing more, nothing less."

Dumbledore – and Fawkes – tilted his head as he studied him, his eyes full of kindness and some kind of empathy. "And what have you been made? You said it yourself – you were a human orphan, who got changed into an elf-human hybrid and dragged into a war. And not as a common solider either, you were the hero who conquered the enemy."

Eragon stayed quiet for a long time. What had the world – or rather, the people of the world – made him?

 _You know who you are, little one,_ Saphira's soft voice resonated in his mind.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he pondered. He was more elf-like than any other human, but he still had human blood in his veins. He was a member of the lead Dwarf Clan, Dûrgrimst Ingeitum and practically a member of the Urgal nation. And on top of that he was also the Leader of the Dragon Riders ( _Though my substitution will probably have to take that title for the time being,_ he thought silently.), the peacekeepers of the land. So, he was not completely a human, nor an elf, nor a dwarf, neither an Urgal ( _At least you're not a Werecat,_ joked Saphira.). The only thing he truly and completely _was_ was –

"I'm a Dragon Rider," he answered softly, but simply.

Dumbledore looked at him with that bright blue, soul-piercing eyes. It unnerved Eragon, but he had taken worse gazes – like Saphira's or Arya's, not to mention Glaedr's. He returned the stare coolly, squaring his shoulders. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Saphira interrupted.

 _As amusing your little staring contest is,_ said Saphira sarcastically _. there is someone approaching the piercing-gazed-old-sage's – what did they call it again? Ah, yes – office. And she doesn't seem too happy._

Eragon sent her a mental nod and a quiet thank you, before he thrust out his mind as well and lo behold, there was a woman headed for the Headmaster's office. She was just a couple of minutes away. "Saphira says there's a woman approaching the office – and she doesn't seem like the happiest person in the world to her."

"I see," Dumbledore nodded. "And it's not Minerva?"

Eragon shook his head. "No, we would've recognized her mind."

"Ah." Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Fawkes and a silent conversation seemed to had passed between them. "Then, I think we have a minor problem."

Before Eragon could ask what exactly that problem was, the door of the office opened and in stepped a woman. If that deserved the title woman. She was short with pale complexion and short neck. Her face was broad with wide mouth and her eyes were bulging. She had mousy brown hair with a black bow in it. Eragon wished he could say that he had seen uglier or more repelling women, but then he would be lying. No one – not even the elves that were the masters of flattery – could say that she was decent-looking. And to Eragon who had spent last few months with elves – they were, after all, the epitome of beauty – she seemed even more repulsing.

Nevertheless, he arranged his features into a neutral expression, being careful to not show his shock.

Although his façade almost crumbled when the woman spoke. "Dumbledore, I demand to know why you or Professors Snape and McGonagall weren't present at the dinner." Her voice was sweet and sugar-coated, but Eragon could detect an undercurrent of disguised fury in it. It was like a sword coated in honey.

Eragon instantly disliked the woman.

When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes raked over him and settled on his angular features. He subconsciously checked if his ears were covered by his hair. He had a sneaking suspicion that the woman wouldn't like his elfish appearance too much.

"Who is this?" she asked Dumbledore as if Eragon was an unintelligent being unworthy of her direct addressing. Her voice lost its sweetness for a split second before regaining it.

Eragon glanced at the Headmaster from the corner of his eye. He had no idea what to tell to the woman. He kind of doubted telling her that he was "Eragon, an elf-like human Dragon Rider who had just crashed in the middle of the Forbidden Forest with his dragon" was a good idea.

 _Come on, Eragon, think,_ he commanded himself. When his mind – and Dumbledore – failed to come up with an idea, he weakly asked his dragon, _Saphira?_

 _You're in a school,_ Eragon, she told him impatiently. _What do the schools have?_

And then it clicked and he had half-a-mind to kick himself into the next century when he would be wiser (hopefully).

He stepped forward and stuck out his hand. "I'm Eragon Bromsson, a student from abroad."

He was certain he could pull this off. His accent was completely different than theirs, after all.

She eyed his outstretched hand before shaking it quickly, her grip slack, and raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Where from?"

Again, he was without ideas and so was Saphira. How was he supposed to know the lands of this world? Fortunately for him, Dumbledore had one idea this time.

"He's from Norway," he answered.

Eragon's eyes shot towards Dumbledore's, one of his eyebrows raised.

"Is that so?" asked the woman. "Then how come I haven't known you'll arrive?" She turned to Dumbledore. "And why were you not present at the dinner?"

"It, uh, was a quick decision," answered Eragon quickly, having absolutely no idea where he was going with it. "My guardians were, uh, fed up with my rebellious attitude and decided to send me to professor Dumbledore through the school year. The details of my arrival were sorted out only last night."

"And we agreed on tonight," continued Dumbledore. "I had no time to warn you of his arrival. I barely managed to inform Minerva and Severus, who welcomed him here alongside me."

The woman looked unconvinced, but she still asked, "And the Potter boy and his friends? Why were they not present at the dinner?"

"I asked them to give Eragon a tour of the castle tomorrow and they wanted to meet him today."

"Mm. Charming young people," cut in Eragon, his voice sincere.

The woman looked at him as if he was nothing more than dirt on her shoes. "Of course, if a little bold sometimes." She scrutinized him with her brown eyes, before she said, "Nevertheless, I have just one last question." She paused for a moment before she continued, "What school were you going to?"

Eragon shot the answer without even thinking. "Shur'tugalar. Its Headmaster is Oromis Thrándurin." _Well,_ he thought solemnly. _**Was.**_

"Really?" The woman raised her eyebrows. "I've never heard of it."

"Very few have heard of it. It used to be one of the most legendary schools, but last century or so it has gotten very few students and it has become a myth, of some kind. Still, it offers one of the best educations in the world. It specializes in wandless magic."

The woman's eyebrows had acquainted themselves with her hairline. "Is that so? Well, I'm certainly looking forward to your demonstration of your knowledge, especially of your language."

Eragon choked, but he subtly tried to change it into a cough. "Yes, ma'am."

She nodded contently. "Well, I should get going."

She turned towards the door and quickly and ungracefully – and without a greeting – walked through it and down the stairs.

They all – even Fawkes – stared after her, Eragon in complete shock. He would have to learn Norwegian? Well, that adventure was off to a great start.

 _Well…,_ said Saphira slowly – though there was amusement in her voice – as they kept staring after the woman. _We've been here for naught but a few hours and you've already gotten yourself in trouble. I'm sure you'll have fun learning Norwegian._

* * *

 **Ah, don't you just love Eragon and Saphira? So, I wanted to update before school starts (which is on September 1st). When does your school start?**

 _ **Kvetha, Fawkes. Eka weohnata néiat haina ono un onr fricaya. Atra nosu waíse fricai. - Greetings, Fawkes. I won't hurt you and your friends. let us be friends.**_

 _ **-finiaril - suffix for a young woman of great promise**_

 **So, answers to your reviews:**

 **Master of Dragons God: Thank you.**

 **Quintain Apprentince of Alduin: I'm glad. :)**

 **Ddragon21: I'm sorry, but no. I like the pairings just the way they are in the books, so... but I'm glad you like the story.**

 **Cynder2013: Yes, yes you do. But not in the forseeable future.**

 **Elemental Dragon Slayer: Thanks. i already have an idea in my head with how to get them back, but if you - or any other reader - have any idea how to do it, I'm open for suggestions. And yes, the other IC characters will make an appearance, but no on Hogwarts or anything.**

 **Zekrom1010101010/Awesomepants/Awesome pants: Thank you. ANd I know it should have been more in depth, but just...ugh, sometimes I just can't do it. And thanks, I like scaring Snape. And answer to your question will be answered in the next chapter (hopefully). Don't worry though, I will include Hagrid. As for the timeline, it's about two weeks into the school year.**

 **Catchfire: Thank you. :) I love the snark, too. And the two will definetly get involved with Dumbledore's and Umbridge's actions.**

 **Peyton: Thank you. Yes, I will be making changes and about the dragon eggs: No comment.**

 **dennej21: Thank you. :)**

 **Thank you for all your reviews, follows and favorites!**

 **Love,**

 **EA4E.**


	6. Chapter 6: Of Elves and Inferiority

**'Ello... *waves carefully***

 **I... I'm not even going to try to make an excuse...**

 **Try to enjoy if you're not too angry...**

 **Disclaimer:** _I still don't own anything._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6: Of Elves and Inferiority**

 _If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals._

 _ **-Sirus Black  
(Harry Potter and Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling)**_

* * *

The second Eragon was sure that the hideous woman was out of ear shot, he turned towards Dumbledore, eyebrows raised. "Where is Norway?" he asked neutrally. "And who in the Stars' name was that?"

Dumbledore, who had taken a seat, answered calmly, "Norway is up north. Probably a day's or two flight away for you two." He paused and his voice became just a notch lower. "And that was Dolores Umbridge, Hogwarts' newly appointed Inquisitor. She's here to… observe us and report about it to the Minister for Magic."

"So, basically…" Eragon began, clasping his hands on his back. "She's here to control you."

Dumbledore gave him only a half-surprised look. "How do you notice all of these things?"

Eragon shrugged and gave a lopsided smirk. "A lot of my friends and companions are elves and they are masters at not showing emotions. I've learned to look for the little things."

The old wizard gave an understanding nod. "But to answer your question directly, yes, she's here to control us and make sure we don't fight against the Ministry." He looked at Eragon pointedly. "Ever since Voldemort's return – which they don't believe happened – the Ministry of Magic has kept an eye on me, the school and, of course, Harry." He sighed. "That boy seems to find trouble everywhere he goes."

This time, Eragon gave a real grin. "We'll get along well, then."

Saphira groaned inside her Rider's head. _Another one?_ Then she said to Dumbledore, _I do hope he has at least one to keep or save him out of trouble, because Eragon needs a whole army for that._

Eragon chuckled. "I don't believe I can argue with that."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, if you mean his friends, then no. More often than not, they join him."

Saphira groaned again, but Eragon only said, "Speaking of Harry and his friends – weren't you supposed to send food to them? They must be starving."

Dumbledore's eyes brightened in realization and he nodded quickly. "Ah, yes, thank you, Eragon." Then he mumbled to himself something about his "memory not being as good as it had once been" and added, "Of course, we'll need someone for you, too."

If Eragon hadn't thought Dumbledore bizarre before, now was the time he started thinking it. But before he could say anything, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Dobby. Kimly," he said clearly.

And a second later, two cracks resounded through the Headmaster's office and Eragon nearly jumped out of his skin. Because standing in the middle of the room were two small creatures. They both had bat-like ears and thin arms and legs. But while one of them was dressed in the weirdest clothing – mint green sweater, blood red shorts, an orange and a pink sock, four hats and three scarves – Eragon had ever seen and had enormous green eyes, the other one was completely different. It had big eyes as well, but its were warm amber and it didn't even wear any normal clothing – it was dressed in a simple tea towel with some kind of crest on it.

 _House-elves,_ Eragon realized quickly.

The two house-elves bowed to Dumbledore deeply, their pencil-like noses almost touching the floor. "Master," said the green-eyed and taller one in his – Eragon was fairly sure it was a male if Harry's memories served him right – high and squeaky voice, while the other one stood to the side uncertainly, its hands fidgeting. He looked at the Headmaster with some kind of admiration.

"Ah, Dobby and Kimly, my friends," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes sparkling with soft kindness, as he looked at the two elves as well. "Meet Eragon Bromsson, my student. He's come from abroad. I believe you'll like him."

The elves turned towards him, their colourful eyes large, uncertain of his treatment of elves. They probably expected him to give them nothing but a glance, perhaps a nod if he was in a good mood. They must had been surprised, then, when he dropped to his knee in front of Dobby, so that they would be on the same eye level, his arm outstretched for him to shake.

"Nice to meet you… Dobby, was it?" he said kindly.

Dobby nodded and shook his hand shortly, dumbfounded. "Yes, I's name is Dobby. Dobby is very glad to meet you, sir. You are too kind to Dobby, Mister Eragon, sir."

"Certainly not. To be honest, my kindness could use a bit of help, no?" he answered with a wink. He didn't give him a chance to answer, though, for he knew that the elf would contradict him. He turned towards the other elf – Kimly – and once again, outstretched his hand. "And you must be Kimly, correct?"

The amber-eyed elf nodded, but did not take his hand. After waiting for a few seconds more, he let his hand fall back to his side.

"You is belittling yourself, sir Eragon," said Kimly softly, transferring her weight on one foot and then on the other nervously, her eyes darting around. Despite its quietness, her voice was clearly high and squeaky – more so than Dobby's. "You must not stoop to Kimly's and Dobby's level."

Eragon scoffed at her – she was being absolutely ridiculous. "I'm not stooping to your level, young Kimly," he said evenly – surprising everyone in the room – as he stood up. "I am simply lifting you to mine."

Kimly reeled backwards, her amber eyes wide in shock and horror. "You must not treat us like that, sir Eragon, no, you must not!" she squeaked indignantly. It was the first time Eragon had heard her speak louder than a whisper. "Kimly deserves harsh orders and insults, not kindness and equality!"

Eragon felt himself – and Saphira – grow sad. Was that really the way these small interesting creatures were treated – like slaves?

 _But they are slaves, little one_ , Saphira said in his mind. Her voice was strong and rational, but her tone was soft and saddened. _They are treated, they think they are and they treat_ _ **themselves**_ _as such. Just like the ones in Dras-Leona._

Eragon's hand clenched into fists. _But they aren't_ _ **supposed**_ _to. Servants, yes, but not_ _ **slaves**_ _._

 _I don't like it any more than you do, little one,_ Saphira answered. _But there'll always be some people who are treated unfairly in the world. You can't change that. Just like you can't change the fact that the world is round and the sky hollow._

He growled in frustration and clenched his fists angrily, but otherwise kept his calm. He watched as Dumbledore kindly ordered Dobby to bring Harry and his friends some food and the elf left, obviously excited about seeing the green-eyed boy again.

 _He must really adore him,_ thought Eragon.

After Dobby vanished into thin air – but not before giving Eragon a respectful glance – Kimly seemed even more uneasy than before, her eyes darting around nervously. Eragon wondered what had happened to her to make her so scared and jumpy. But on second thought, he didn't want to know – the possibilities were endless and nauseating.

Fortunately, Dumbledore spoke before Eragon's thoughts could get too far. "Now, of course, comes the matter of where you shall be sleeping. I suppose that you would like to sleep with Saphira?"

Eragon nodded firmly. "Yes, I would prefer to have her by my side. If," he added after a second of thinking. "that's okay with you."

"Well, I think it will be quite a challenge finding a room that could accommodate Saphira due to her big form, but I'm sure it's not impossible."

Saphira apparently hadn't heard anything after the "big form" part. _Big form?_ she angrily asked Dumbledore. (Kimly, who had never heard the blue dragon's voice flinched and her eyes became twice their original size). _Are you calling me fat?_

"No, Saphira, I was simply-" began Dumbledore, but was cut off by angry Saphira.

 _I'll have you know that I am_ _ **not**_ _fat,_ she said, her tone furious and unforgiving. _I am simply a growing dragoness, who could, by the way, tear you – or your castle – to pieces in a matter of minutes._

Dumbledore spluttered and Eragon, who had found the situation highly amusing, came to his aid. _Saphira,_ he said calmly, barely managing to keep amusement out of his words. _He did not mean to insult you. What he meant to say was that you take up a lot of space. You know that._

Saphira's amusement was evident in her voice. _Oh, I do. I simply find it amusing to mess with the two-legs' head._

Something between amusement and annoyance flickered inside Eragon's mind. _Ah,_ was his intelligent answer _. And I suppose that you didn't share that bit of information with the dear old Headmaster of Hogwarts._

She hummed before she snorted. _Of course not._

Their conversation lasted for only a minute and it went unnoticed by Dumbledore, who seemed to had recovered his composure. "I'm dearly sorry, lovely Saphira. I meant no offense. I only meant to say that we usually don't have to accommodate dragons in Hogwarts."

Saphira harrumphed, but Eragon knew it was fake – Dumbledore, however, did not. _I'll let you know about acceptance of your apology in a while._

"Meanwhile," Eragon cut in, his tone becoming slightly impatient. "We've yet to decide on our sleeping arrangements and must I remind you that it's getting quite late." He sent a mental glare towards Saphira, which she whole-heartedly returned, but kept quiet.

"Yes," answered Dumbledore, quickly composing himself. "Yes, of course." He turned towards Kimly, his mouth curving into a small pleasant smile. "Do you happen to know any hidden rooms that could accommodate a dragon?"

Kimly's eyes widened at the mention of a dragon, but she quickly composed herself and nodded eagerly – she seemed glad to be of help, noted Eragon. "Yes, Master. Kimly's helped Dobby get Winky there a couple of times, Master. It's called Room of Requirement, sir. It gives you whatever you require."

Dumbledore smiled and stood up with a clap of his hands. "Splendid!" he said enthusiastically. "Could you please take Eragon there?"

Kimly nodded even though discomfort was quite evident in her posture. "Yes, master."

"Oh, and one more thing, Kimly."

The elf, who had already begun walking to the door, turned around. "Yes, sir?"

"From this moment on until Mister Eragon here leaves you are relieved of your duties as a Hogwarts' house-elf and your only priority is to make Eragon feel welcome and take care of his wishes."

Eragon and Kimly both widened their eyes at Dumbledore, but was Eragon that actually voiced their thoughts, "WHAT?" before he realized that he appeared rather rude to the Headmaster and Kimly. He quickly regained his composure and calmly said, "I assure you, Albus-elda, I am quite capable of taking care of myself."

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow at Eragon's use of honorific for he didn't know the meaning of it, but the Rider's face remained impassive. "I'm very much aware of that, Eragon. You have blasted me and my colleagues into trees, after all. But Kimly is here to show you around Hogwarts."

"Oh." Eragon inclined his head gratefully. "Then, thank you." He glanced uncertainly at Kimly, who stood off to the side, looking quite nervous and scared, before meeting Dumbledore's blue eyes again. "Could I speak with you in private for just a second?"

Dumbledore nodded and – kindly – ordered Kimly to wait for Eragon at the bottom of the stairs. The elf did as she was ordered and Disapparated – was that how the wizards called it?

The old Headmaster trained his bright eyes on Eragon, who steadily met his gaze. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Kimly… what happened to her? She's so jumpy and nervous, like she expects beatings for everything she does."

Dumbledore sighed. "Well, she's very young and she worked for a pureblood family in Norway up until a few months back, when she was let go, because she did something that irked her masters. She then wandered over the world for a few months, trying to find a job, but wherever she went they either already had a house-elf and didn't need another or she was looked down upon for getting fired by her former masters. Then Dobby found her and brought her here. I offered her payment considering she was a free elf, but she adamantly refused for she didn't want to be free. She wanted to have a master, someone who she belonged to. So she became a Hogwarts' elf and I have a feeling she will not leave, lest I give her a piece of clothing. She's a good elf, though I suspect her former masters have not been kind to her."

Eragon frowned thoughtfully. "And you chose her because she's from Norway and can teach me Norwegian –"

– _and because she's young and will be quicker to adapt to our beliefs about slavery_ , finished Saphira without missing a beat.

Corners of Dumbledore's mouth quirked up in amusement as his eyes sparkled. "Not a single thing escapes you, does it?"

 _Not really, no,_ answered Saphira confidently, making Eragon roll his eyes.

"Very well, Eragon, Saphira." The old Headmaster bowed his head. "I just have one last question for you two."

"Shoot."

"As I'm sure you've discovered, Severus is very skilled in Legilimency and Occlumency and I am not that bad at it myself. Severus, for example, is able to fend off Voldemort himself." He paused and gave Eragon a serious look. "Then how come you were able to break into both of our minds – not to mention the other's –, while being seriously injured?"

Eragon cracked his knuckles nervously. "Well..." He cleared his throat. "Saphira and I are trained in art of breaking into one's mind and had we been each on our own, I'm sure you would've been able to defend yourself better, from me more so than Saphira." His eyes flickered around the room a couple of times. "She, even though injured and alone, is a force to be reckoned with – every dragon is."

 _But when we are together,_ cut in Saphira. _we work in sync and harmony that, to you mortals, is unknown and unimaginable. Together, a Dragon and a Rider are terrifying and out of the unbound, a few people can stand up to us._

"So," said one of the portraits that hung on the wall. It portrayed a frail and feeble-looking old man with a few wisps of white hair and brown eyes that was dressed in blue and bronze robes. "in theory, you could defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"In theory, yes." The Blue Rider gave a small weak smile while turning around. "Prophecies are no light thing to mess with, Armando-vodhr."

And he slipped through the door like a shadow – as if he had never been there.

* * *

Walk from the Headmaster's office to the infirmary ward had been an awkwardly quiet one. Kimly had kept shooting scared glances towards Eragon, while he had tried to talk to her, asking her all kinds of questions. She had answered only with "yes, sir", "no, sir" and "I don't know, sir". Needless to say, he had given up after a few minutes.

Even Saphira had kept uncharacteristically quiet during that time.

He had been kind of relieved when they arrived to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey gave him Brisingr before ushering them out of there and slamming the door shut behind them.

After seeing Brisingr – who had been sorely missed – Kimly had been even more afraid of him and Eragon couldn't really blame her. Then, they had started walking towards the Room of Requirement, in front of which they now stood – or, at least, in front of a tapestry portraying a man trying to teach a few trolls ballet.

"You have to walk past it three times and state what you need in your mind, sir," said Kimly timidly.

Eragon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. It's not like I've got anything to lose.

He stepped forward and started walking in front of the tapestry, eyes closed.

 _I need a room that can accommodate me and Saphira._

He turned around.

 _Somewhere Saphira can come and where she can't be found._

He whirled around again.

 _I need a room where I can feel at home_. After a moment of hesitation he added, _Please._

 _Only you, little one,_ Saphira chuckled with undeniable underlining of warmth in her voice. _Only you would say please to a room._

His response was lost when Kimly sharply said, "Sir Eragon!"

He opened his eyes and gaped.

Polished double door had appeared in the wall in front of him. He outstretched his hand and grabbed the handle, pulling the door open effortlessly. He stepped into the room, vaguely aware of the house-elf following behind him.

The room was spacious, lit with un-flickering lanterns – Erisdar's, he realized slowly but joyfully, just like those in the dwarven and elven cities. There was a huge bed right of the entrance, its bedding a mix of blue and green colours. At its foot, against the wall was a bookcase, filled with scrolls and books – which, upon closer inspection, he found to be in Ancient language and English and about Alagaësia –, making him itch to grab a handful of them and start reading them. On the opposite wall was a bed large enough to accommodate a dragon three times the size of Saphira. The cushion's colour was the palest of blue, while its lining appeared dark blue. Next to the dragon bed was a door which he opened to find a bathroom similar to the one in Ellesméra with a small addition.

"Kimly," he called uncertainly.

The elf was immediately at his side, her eyes huge. "Yes, sir?"

He pointed to the offensive object. "What is that?"

The small elf looked confused but answered nevertheless. "That's a toilet, sir."

"Ah." He was bemused. "And what is it for?"

Kimly must have thought he was joking, but she replied, "It is used to dispose of urine and faeces, sir."

Eragon, though still puzzled, let the topic drop and walked out of the bathroom, much to Saphira's amusement.

He walked to the last wall that had absolutely nothing on it or against it so he outstretched his hand and pressed it against the stone.

He hadn't been expecting to almost fall through. He stumbled forward, head falling through the wall and one leg slipping over the edge of the floor.

He barely managed to keep his balance, probably thanks to the Eldunarya, who had made him do Rimgar on the railing of the boat these past months.

 _Well,_ he said after a second of silence from him, Saphira and Kimly. _Seems like I found a way to get you in._

His dragon snorted. _Indeed. I would prefer if you didn't almost fall off the seventh floor of a castle, though._

 _You can't have everything_ , dearest Saphira, he said in a sing-song voice.

Saphira huffed, but remained silent, only sending him a mental death glare. He felt her kick off the ground and fly into the sky, being careful to quickly mask herself with the darkness and keeping her wing-swings as light as possible. She came through the wall a few minutes later, landing gracefully and almost soundlessly – her talons barely made a sound as they scraped the hard floor. He took as second to notice how much she had actually grown since they left Alagaësia. His awe, however, was short-lived.

Kimly squeaked in fear and jumped back, her amber eyes twice their former size.

Eragon turned to her and outstretched his hands, trying to calm the house-elf down. "Kimly, she won't hurt you." His voice was soft and soothing as he put one hand on Saphira's neck. The blue dragoness gurgled softly, her big blue eyes kind. "We won't hurt you."

The amber-eyed creature stood stone-still, not even a twitch in her posture.

Eragon took a careful step forward, crouching lower in an attempt to not seem so tall. "We won't hurt you, okay?" He outstretched his hand again, palm up.

She eyed his hand and then raised her gaze to meet his – for the first time since they had met. She nodded gradually. Then, she slowly, ever so slowly, lifted her hand and grabbed a hold of his.

He smiled encouragingly and led her towards Saphira, who had lowered her head so that her eyes – or an eye – were on the same height as Kimly. He put the house-elf's palm on Saphira's warm snout, before taking a step back to observe the scene.

Saphira puffed good-naturedly, making dark smoke trail from her nostrils. _Hello, tiny-big-eyes-two-legs-Kimly. I am Saphira._

Kimly stepped back and bowed. "Hello, o great dragon. Me is Kimly and is pleased to meet you."

Saphira eyed her Rider, amusement and satisfaction glinting in her big eyes. _I like her._

* * *

About an hour later, Eragon kicked off his boots and took off his tunic before he unfastened the belt around his hips, which had Brisingr on it. He looked down at his tight pants and immediately wished for something more comfortable to wear.

As soon as the thought left his mind, the room got bigger and at the wall that previously only had had a bookcase and a bed next to it, appeared a large closet. He gaped and stepped forward to open it.

Inside was tons of clothing, from wizarding robes to Alagaësian clothing to Muggle clothes in all kinds of colours. He chose a pair of gray sweatpants and put them on to find that they fit him perfectly. He smirked as Saphira let out a noncommittal noise.

She was laying on the cushion, appearing extremely small on it. Her head was on her paws and she was curled up like a content kitten, her tail wrapped around her. Had anyone looked really quickly at her, they would have thought she was sleeping, but she was very muck awake, for her eyes were open and alert.

 _So, we're really staying, huh?_ She asked as he climbed into the bed and covered himself with the covers. Her tone was neither happy, nor sad – Eragon knew it was purposely neutral.

He shrugged helplessly, the motion looking weird under the covers. _It seems so._ He paused, searching for words. _But I'm glad you're here with me, Saphira. I could never stay without you._

 _Little one,_ she murmured as she stood up and padded toward him, her tail dragging behind her silently. She lowered her head as she reached him and her snout brushed his forehead lovingly. _I couldn't do it without you either._

He reached out and scratched her jaw, just where she liked it. _I love you, Saphira._

 _I love you too, little one._ Her tongue flicked out and its tip touched his forehead. _Get some sleep._ She turned around and walked back to her cushion, laying back down and closing her eyes.

He turned so that he was lying on his side and let his sleepiness catch up with him. And in a matter of minutes, he was lost to his waking dreams.

* * *

 **So, on a scale of 1-10, how bad was it? 13?**

 **Okay, to put that aside, you can thank _Pkmntrainereragon124_ for making me promise to finish this chapter by the end of this month and though I've been staying up real late last few nights and I've been having a splitting headache through the day, I am a (wo)man of my word! Hope you enjoyed it, (Pkmntrainereragon124 and) everyone!**

 **Also, since I've gotten a couple of notes that I have a few mistakes in my writing (English isn't my first language), I've been wondering if anyone wanted to beta this story?**

 **And, I don't Norwegian and I don't want to use Google or any other translator, would annyone care to be extremely nice and help me out with that? Like, I'd send you the sentence I need translated and you'd send it back in Norwegian. Anyone willing to do that?**

 **Anyway, answers to your reviews:**

 **Hero's Valor: Haha, glad you enjoyed it! :D Thanks for the idea with Angela! I might include it in the story. About Glaedr, I whole-heartedly agree with you, and I did think about him coming with them, but then everything would be too easy. And they are too open, aren't they? I'll try to fix that in the future.**

 **Quintain Apprentince of Alduin: Indeed. :)**

 **Cynder2013: Yes, but I'd like to see Eragon learn a new language. It'll be a nice touch. And don't worry about Hermione, she'll get a break.**

 **Peyton: Haha, good. :) Maybe, possibly. ;) Thank you, again.**

 **Guest: Okay... you're creepy... I like that :D we'll get along well xD Thanks, though. :) I'm glad you love it.**

 **Laonasa Enllyn Avery: Thank you. I do intend to do that. :D**

 **Zekrom1010101010/Awesomepants: Okay... I'm not sure which one is the actual one, but okay. :)**

 **The Dark Shape: Oh, believe me, I will *grins evilly* also, thank you :)))**

 **Ilysia11: Thank you and I'll try. :)**

 **LeonidasLives300Times: You flatter me :) Maybe in a few chapters, maybe in not so few chapters, but definetly YES. You do mean with the POV-s, right? Like Arya, Roran, Nasuada, Murtagh,... Because our Rider and Dragon ain't going back there for quite a while.**

 **Skiing-girl: Thank you. :) BTW, that annoys me too.**

 **DrBurn: You have NO idea how touched I was by your review! I think a few tears might have slipped. :'D But seriously though, you calmed all my fears, but at tha same time you put SO much pressure on me - like, what if I don't live up to your expectations?**  
 **But, I won't leave fanfiction! NEVER! I might be absent for a while, but I'll never leave!**

 **Guest - anonymous: Og, God, I am so sorry! I know I hadn't updated and God, I hope you're still alive. To make it up to you, write me an oneshot idea and I'll try to write it as best as I can. Sound good? Again, I'm so very sorry!**

 **Guest: Haha, I actually don't like cheezeburgers ;D But it's the thought that counts, right?**

 **: I'm so glad you like it! :D Hope you liked this chapter, too!**

 **Grace: You really honor and flatter me! :D But don't die! About the errors, working on it - as I'm sure you've read.**

 **Inherifan1: Thank you, thank you, thank you! :D**

 **SaviourUnleashed: Thank you :) I'm working on updating faster, though. I hope I'll update sooner the next time.**

 **Oh, and THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **EA4E.**


	7. Chapter 7: Dreams and Rebels

**Hello... It's me... (alive)**

 **You guys must really hate me right now...**

 **Anyway,**

 **enjoy?**

 **Deiclaimer:** Nope, still don't own anything.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7: Dreams and Rebels**

 _I don't think of myself as a rebel; I just say what I think._

 ** _-Marjane Satrapi_**

* * *

That night, Eragon had a strange dream.

 _He was standing in the middle of nowhere, the air cool and crisp in his lungs. He looked around himself. He was on a snow-covered plateau and it was somewhere high, the view told him that much. He could see a lake and a river and forest and even beyond that – a desert._

 _There were mountains around him, some higher than his altitude, some lower, but he recognized them and he felt a pang in his chest as he did._

 _He was in Beor Mountains, or rather, on one of them. He was in Alagaësia._

 _He was home._

 _It had been months, nearly half a year since he had last been in Alagaësia and, needless to say, he had missed it. And this newfound knowledge that he might never be in the same world again, caused his chest to ache with homesickness._

 _No, he scolded himself. Alagaësia wasn't his home, not anymore. He had lost the right to call it his home the moment he had sailed to the east._

" _Beautiful, isn't it?"_

 _The voice that had spoken came from behind Eragon. He whirled around his hand grabbing for the pommel of Brisingr, only to find it gone. He didn't let that bedazzle him a great deal. He was a Dragon Rider. He didn't need a weapon to fight – and win._

 _Still, he frowned and tensed his body, preparing himself for a fight._

 _In front of him, stood a woman Eragon had never met or seen before. She was tall, taller than Arya, and willowy. And she was absolutely gorgeous – more gorgeous than elves. She possessed unearthly beauty – divine even. She had long mid-back-reaching white hair that shaded into black along its length. Her eyes were bright and seemed to possess every single shade of grey known to the world, their depths endless and wisdom immense. She was clad in a white dress with black swirls – Eragon suspected that they had some meaning – on it and her pale feet were bare._

 _Eragon cleared his throat. "Who are you?"_

 _The woman gave him a small wry smile. "My real name is unpronounceable for you, young one, but you can call me Wyrda."_

 _Fate? Her name was_ _ **Fate**_ _?_

" _Okay," he said slowly and gave her an uncertain look._

 _She sat down, her legs going underneath her and folded her hands in her lap, the snow covering the ground seeming to not bother her. She inclined her head to the spot next to her and smiled warmly. "Sit."_

 _Eragon had a feeling she wouldn't like it if he didn't obey, so he sat down next to her. He was in a dream, after all, and she couldn't hurt him._

 _Wyrda looked at him, her eyes sparkling and a sense of familiarity struck Eragon. As if he had met this woman before._

" _Do you know why you're here, Eragon?" she asked him._

 _Eragon shrugged. "I suppose that my mind conjures up whatever it wants while I'm not in full consciousness."_

 _Wyrda laughed and threw her head back, her thick hair tumbling down her back, while Eragon stared at her in bemusement._

" _I'll admit, Eragon, you have kept me amused over the years," she said after a couple of minutes, brushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "I had been bored before I got to watch over your family."_

" _Watch over my family?" Eragon repeated, as bemused as before, if not more._

 _She sighed. "Oh, look at that. I am already straying from the purpose of my visit." She looked him dead in the eyes and he was struck with that sense of familiarity once again. "When I asked you if you know what you're doing here, I meant here as in the world of Harry Potter. Do you know what you're here for?"_

 _Eragon shook his head._

" _You're here to help them," she said. "Only help them and nothing else."_

 _Eragon blinked. "I am not quite sure what you mean."_

 _She grabbed his forearm and then let go a second later as if he had burned her. "You must not, under any circumstances, kill Voldemort. That's Harry's job. You did the right thing when you told Dumbledore and Dippet that one must not mess with prophecies." She gave him a small, but approving smile. "You have become quite wise, Eragon, and you are one of the smartest and bravest seventeen-year-olds I have ever known."_

 _He bowed his head, a light blush colouring his otherwise-pale cheeks._

" _ **But,**_ _I do expect you will make a living hell of Umbride's life." Wyrda scrunched up her nose. "I've never liked her."_

 _Eragon gave her a sideways glance. "I don't think anyone does."_

 _She chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so." She glanced up at the clear sky – now darkening. "Oh, would you look at how quickly the time has passed. I really ought to be on my way." She stood up, brushing the non-existent dirt from her dress. She looked at him, her grey eyes serious. "You listen to what I said, okay? Do not meddle with prophecies."_

 _And just like that, she was gone, leaving behind only a smell of meadows and home._

Eragon's eyes snapped open.

He sat upright in his bed, suddenly feeling very hot. He moved the covers away and looked towards Saphira.

She was still in her bed, her breathing even and calm. And normally, that would've calmed him, but not this time.

He'd expected her to be awake and witnessing the same dreams as him.

He shook his head and pressed his palms to his eyes so that his thumbs touched his temples. His skin was unusually hot.

He stood up – rather gracelessly – and stumbled in the bathroom. He turned on water on and dipped his hands in the cool liquid.

He splashed the water on his face, feeling the burning skin slowly cool off. He raised his head and looked in the mirror. A pale face with slanted features stared back at him. And maybe it was just him, but it seemed as if his cheekbones were more prominent and cheeks more sunken than they had been a few months ago.

He barely remembered what he'd looked like just a couple of years back, before he was sucked into the war. But he was sure that his eyes weren't that intense and his face not that rugged.

He shook his head and lowered his gaze, not being able to look at his reflection anymore. His eyes ran along the length of his muscled arms and stopped dead on his forearm.

Because there, exactly where Wyrda had touched him, was a pure white scar the size of a fingertip.

* * *

Harry woke up to Ron shaking his shoulder.

"Harry!" His eyes seemed big, the morning sun reflected in them like pools of molten gold. "Harry, wake up!"

"What?" Harry grumbled sleepily. He'd been just about to open the door in his dreams, when Ron'd woken him up. "Ron, it's Saturday, so I don't have to get to any classes."

Ron grabbed him by the shoulders. "Harry, what happened yesterday?"

Harry yawned. "We had classes and then we went to Hagrid's but he wasn't home and then…" he trailed off, trying to remember. And when he did, he bolted upright. "And then we met Eragon and Saphira."

Ron let out a groaning sound and collapsed on Harry's bed. "I was hoping it was just a dream."

Harry snorted. "When is it ever with us?"

"Point taken."

They got dressed and descended down the stairs, into the common room, where Hermione was already waiting for them.

She took one glance up at them, momentarily stopping her knitting, and said, "Took you guys long enough." She stood up, brushing her hair back. She looked first at Ron, then at Harry and smiled tiredly at them as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her.

It went as a kind of an unspoken agreement that yesterday's events were real.

They exited the common room and started walking towards the Great Hall. They tried to come up with a cover story for their absence the previous evening, though it turned out to be unnecessary.

Next to the entrance to the Great Hall stood Professor McGonagall, eyeing anyone, who dared to question her presence in front of the Hall, evilly. When the three approached, she trained her eyes on them.

"Potter, Granger, Weasely," she said as she inclined her head quickly. "Follow me."

She led them towards her office, her pace so fast the three had to practically run to keep in step with her. She gestured to the chairs. "Sit down."

They complied, staring at her as she, too, sat down stiffly. She opened a jar of biscuits and offered the jar to them. "Biscuit?" she asked.

They shook their head. "No, thank you, Professor," said Hermione. "With all due respect, why are we here?"

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I suppose you already know," she said. "It is concerning young Eragon Bromsson that arrived yesterday." She put the biscuits down. "If anyone asks you where you were yesterday evening or anything concerning yesterday, I want you to tell them that you were welcoming Eragon to Hogwarts, along with Albus, Severus and myself. You were the only students to know of his arrival because we chose you to lead him around Hogwarts and because the agreement of his arrival was made really quickly."

"Arrival from where, Professor?" asked Hermione.

"Norway," answered Professor. "He's from a hidden school that specializes in wandless magic in Norway. As far as public is concerned, Saphira doesn't exist and Eragon is completely human."

Harry couldn't imagine Saphira being happy with the arrangements.

"What if his ears are seen?" he inquired. "Professor," he added hastily, but she didn't seem to notice.

Professor shook her head. "They won't be. He will change them with his magic." She stood up briskly. "Now that that is cleared, off you go. Breakfast is waiting."

The trio stood up and exited her office.

They entered the Main Hall and sat down at the table. Ron immediately attacked the food. He loaded his plate with eggs and bacon and filled his glass with pumpkin juice. Hermione took a toast and nibbled on it, her eyes glancing around the Hall. Harry didn't have an appetite.

Hermione glanced at him. "Harry, you have to eat something."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Ron looked at him over his loaded plate. "Are you sure? You look kind of pale."

Harry poured himself some pumpkin juice and glanced towards the teachers' table involuntarily. Professor McGonagall had just sat down, reaching for a toast as if it were a completely ordinary day. Snape was being his usual mean-looking man with greasy hair and a murderous glint in his eyes. Dumbledore, too, acted as if nothing was different than usual. He was chatting with Professor Sprout, taking a bite of his eggs every once in a while. And Umbridge – well, Umbridge was glaring at Harry if it he'd drowned all of her kittens and cut up all of her disgusting sweaters. Her dark eyes were boring into Harry's with unnerving intensity and Harry looked away, dropping his eyes on his empty plate.

With a sigh, he realized that Ron and Hermione were right. He reached for the toast and jam. His gaze lifted when Ginny sat down next to him, her fiery hair pulled in a ponytail and an apple in her hand.

"Where were you three yesterday?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing at the trio.

Fred and George sat down in-between Ron and Hermione. "Yeah," said George. "We really missed you guys at dinner."

Fred nodded. "Mhm. Umbridge nearly flipped when she saw that you three and Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were missing."

Ginny smirked before taking a bite of her apple. "You should've seen how red her face was."

"So," said Fred as he clapped his hands together. "That being said; where were you?"

Ron, Hermione and Harry exchanged uncertain glances, _What should we tell them?_

As if sensing their discomfort, Dumbledore stood up. Students' eyes turned to him, prepared to listen to his every word.

"Good morning, students," the Headmaster said. "I have a little announcement to make. Yesterday evening, I, along with Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall and a few students, was absent from dinner, as I'm sure some of you have noticed." His glance stayed on Ginny and the twins a second longer than the others. "The reason is that a new student arrived to our school yesterday and we awaited him."

Chatter and whispers broke out all across the Hall.

"However," continued Dumbledore and the Hall quieted. "As he has already finished his basic education – meaning he has already reached the level of Hogwarts' graduates – he will be taking place as my personal student and therefor, shall not be sorted into any of the Houses."

Whispers broke out again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you, Eragon Bromsson!"

Eragon walked through the Hall's side door (the one that led to chamber of portraits) and gasps – mainly female – were heard from all over the Hall. Eragon was clad in a simple white button-down shirt and loose jeans, his feet still in his boots though they were covered with his jeans down to his ankles. A dark wizard robe was thrown over his Muggle clothing and his hair was neatly side-swept. Harry could see why the female population of Hogwarts was entranced, though he could not understand it.  
Eragon was taking long strides, his shoulders squared. He didn't seem arrogant or unearthly. He seemed quietly confident in himself and real – someone people could relate to.

He stopped in front of the teachers' table and bowed his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Headmaster, for your introduction."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "You are welcome, Eragon. I trust your first night was pleasant?"

Eragon nodded shortly, but firmly. "Indeed. Thank you, Albus-elda."

Dumbledore gestured all around the Hall. "Please, take your seat anywhere you'd like." His eyes twinkled. "I imagine you'd want to sit with your acquaintances."

Eragon nodded. "Thank you, Headmaster." He turned around and strode towards Harry and his friends, his eyes firmly trained on them, as if he didn't want to acknowledge all the eyes in him. He sat down at the Gryffindor table and gave them a small smile. "Good morning, acquaintances."

Ginny snorted. "I should've known you three were involved in this somehow."

Eragon turned to her, his face unreadable. "Hello," he said and offered Ginny his hand. "I'm Eragon."

Ginny took his hand and firmly shook it. "I'm Ginny Weasely, Ron's sister."

Across the table, Fred and George exchanged mischievous glances. Fred held out his hand. "I'm Forge," he said cheerfully.

"And I'm Gred," added George just as merrily as he, too, held out his hand.

Eragon glanced at them and his eyes sparkled in amusement. "Pleased to meet you, Fred and George," he said as he shook their hands. "I'm Roragon."

* * *

A couple of days later, Eragon was in his room, sitting at the desk that had magically appeared there when he'd wanted a writing surface. He was staring at the papers that Kimly had given him so that he could learn Norwegian. He'd started with greetings and that alone was already giving him a headache.

He tugged at his hair. It seemed that wherever he went, he always managed to find trouble no matter what.

He half-expected Saphira's incoming comment, but he had to remind himself that she had gone hunting an hour or so earlier. Therefore, she was almost out of range for she had flown miles north and Eragon preferred to slightly cut their bond while she was hunting. But he could feel that she was alive and okay as well as satisfied because her belly was full.

Speaking of which, Eragon himself had missed dinner, which had passed a couple of hours back, and he hated the idea of interrupting Kimly's work just so that she could bring him some food. He would just have to suffer in silence, then.

His stomach growled in protest.

 _Well,_ Eragon thought sardonically. _Maybe not in silence._

Then he remembered that he was in Room of Requirement and that it had this handy habit of granting one's wishes if one asked nicely. He glanced at the walls uncertainly.

 _Here goes nothing,_ he thought. _Um, I would like something to eat. Please._

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a door appeared next to the bookcase and Eragon stood up. He stepped towards it and twisted the doorknob. It opened to reveal a dark passage. He gingerly stepped forward, his hand on the pommel of his dagger, the only weapon he had on himself as of right now. (He'd taken to leaving Brisingr in the Room of Requirement at all times, seeing as there was no need to be carrying a hand-and-a-half sword, that had a tendency to burn when its name was spoken, around a school.)

" _Naina_ ," he whispered and the passage lit up.

He started walking, barely remembering to send a quick thought to Saphira, who was already on her way back. He didn't know how long he walked – it could've been minutes or hours. But when he finally saw the end of the passage, he felt caution stalk into his movements. He slowly pushed the door open and found himself slightly above a small living room with a durable carpet, a wobble-legged chair and a worn-out couch.

He jumped down from wherever he was and he would've landed quietly if not for the creaking boards of the parquet. They squeaked as his feet hit the wood and he internally cursed. He straightened up and brushed dust off his shirt and pants. He looked around the room and saw that he had entered the room right above a small fireplace and that what he had thought a door was actually a large oil painting of a blonde girl. She had a faraway look in her eyes as she gazed at the room.

" _Stupefy!_ "

Eragon barely had time to react as the spell flew towards him. He whirled around and let the red light pass him, already unsheathing his dagger and twirling it dangerously in-between his fingers.

He came face to face with a tall and thin man with long and stringy grey hair and beard. His eyes, hidden behind smudgy glasses, were a bright and piercing blue. "Who are you?" he grunted, brandishing his wand.

Eragon raised his hands. "Eragon Bromsson. Who are you?"

He knew the answer before the man spoke. Even though he had longer hair and a beard now, Eragon still recognized his blue eyes and goat-like appearance from Albus Dumbledore's memories.

"I'm Aberforth," said Aberforth Dumbledore, his wand still raised though lowering now. "You're the new kid Albus's been tellin' me 'bout."

Eragon nodded slowly. "And you're his brother."

Aberforth squinted at him. "And how'd you know that?"

Eragon pursued his lips sheepishly. "I'm really perceptive?" he tried, slowly sheathing his dagger.

Aberforth laughed, he, too, putting his weapon away. "I'm gonna pretend that I believe you," he said.

The Rider cracked a smile. "You look alike – one could figure it out from that," he offered.

Albus's brother nodded thoughtfully. "I s'pose." He cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence. "So, what're you doin' here, kid?"

Eragon shrugged. "I was in the Room of Requirement and I asked for something to eat and the passage to here opened."

Aberforth nodded. "Mm, it can't conjure up food, so that's understandable." He stepped forward and closed the portrait, covering up the passage. "But I've got food, if you want some."

Eragon's stomach growled and he grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, food sounds good."

* * *

Leaning back with a sigh, Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. Doing his Transfiguration homework late at night had never been a good solution for him, but what could he do when between Quidditch practices and all the other homework he hadn't had time for it. The whole week had exhausted him and of course then there was the matter of Hermione's idea, which offered an additional headache.

It had been about a week since Eragon and Saphira had arrived at Hogwarts and things had pretty much stayed the same since then. The Rider rarely showed in public, preferring to stay in his room, wherever that was, and according to McGonagall learning whatever he had to, which was simply ridiculous since the seventeen-year-old could wipe the floor with half the seventh year at once. He even missed out on meals occasionally, but whenever Harry saw him, he seemed healthy and well-fed.

As for Saphira, Harry hadn't seen her since he'd met her, though she sometimes found her way inside his head and commented on various things. Purely for her own amusement, Harry suspected. But no matter how amused she seemed, she always gave him good advice and judgement. On more than one occasion, she stopped him from getting himself in detention with Umbridge again.

Having a sudden urge to find the two on the Marauder's Map, he climbed up the stairs and opened his trunk to find it, along with the Invisibility Cloak. Once he fished them out of the mess also known as his trunk, he descended the stairs again and sat back down in the armchair, adjusting himself comfortably. He tapped the Map with his wand.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The map of Hogwarts appeared and the castle's main body was vacant except for a few prefects and Head Boys and Head Girls as well as some teachers patrolling the castle. Most of the students were in their dormitories, sleeping soundly. But there was one dot that was neither a teacher nor a student – not technically, at least.

 _Eragon Bromsson._

(The Map had identified him the same night he'd come to Hogwarts – Harry had checked.)

He was in the Astronomy Tower, all alone, Saphira not even on the Hogwarts grounds.

Harry wondered why the Rider would be alone on top of the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the night, without even Saphira in his vicinity.

Deciding that knowing that was more important than his homework, Harry grabbed the Cloak and draped it over his shoulders. Then he proceeded to exit the Common Room, his Transfiguration homework lying forgotten on the desk.

An avoidance of two prefects and a near run-in with Professor Flitwick later, Harry finally arrived to the foot of the Astronomy Tower. He checked the Map to see if Eragon was still up there and sure enough, he was. His dot hadn't moved a millimetre.

With a sigh, Harry started ascending the stairs. About ten minutes later, he came to the top of the stairs, his chest heaving as he had practically run up.

He noticed Eragon almost immediately. He was sitting at the ledge of an opening, his body aligned with the edge. One of his legs was outstretched completely, while the other one was bent, one of his arms perched atop the bent knee. His other hand was at his side and he was leaning against the four inches wide wall. His head was tilted upward, toward the dark night sky, the moon reflected in his eyes.

The Rider didn't even glance in Harry's direction as he said, "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" his voice filled with mirth.

"Shouldn't you?" retorted Harry, taking a step closer to Saphira's Rider.

The said Rider glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, his mouth curving in a smirk. "I believe I asked first." He whirled on the ledge so that his body was now fully facing the starry sky, his legs dangling over the edge. At any moment, he could've gone hurtling down, toward the cold hard ground many feet underneath them, but he didn't seem to care. He appeared completely at ease.

Harry shrugged as he stashed away the Cloak and the Map. He joined Eragon on the ledge, tentatively sitting down – partly because of being unsure of Eragon's agreement on this, partly because of being afraid of falling to his death. "I had to do some homework and I couldn't sleep," he explained. He turned his head to look at the other boy. "You?"

Eragon lifted his hand and blue flames danced across his palm. He shrugged with one shoulder – the one that wasn't connected to his flaming palm. "I couldn't sleep either," he said as his eyes swivelled back up to the stars, the flames still burning. "The stars are different here – it makes me homesick."

Harry nodded. "Understandable." He watched as the fire died out slowly. Then, like Eragon, he turned his gaze upward, his eyes finding the familiar constellations of the sky – Cassiopeia, Little Dipper, Big Dipper, Orion and others. "I would too."

Eragon's gaze flickered to him. "Aren't you tired?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Probably a little. But I'm way too energized to feel sleepy." He returned the glance. "You?"

Eragon shook his head with a chuckle. "No," he answered. "I don't really _need_ sleep." He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Part elf, remember?"

"Still, don't you need energy?"

"Yes, but we never really sleep – we're in a half-awake-half-asleep state. It allows us to be aware of everything around us while still getting some rest."

"Wicked," Harry said with a grin. "I wish I could do that."

"It is a double-edged sword. Sometimes, I wish I could just momentarily forget some things." He got this faraway look in his eyes, his hand playing across the stone walls. A few seconds later, he shook his head quickly. "Anyhow," he continued hurriedly. "why can't you sleep? There has to be a reason."

Harry shrugged. "Well," he said slowly. "a few days before you came, Hermione suggested this thing that we should do – but it would probably be breaking the rules. I mean, not technically, but still…" He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think she'll want an answer soon."

Eragon seemed amused, if the twitching of his mouth was anything to go by. "As far as I can recall, you've never had any problems with breaking the rules."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well," he said as he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "This would be angering the Ministry of Magic and I'm already on thin ice with them."

"So it would be rebelling against the authority," summed up Eragon, a twinkle in his eye.

"Basically, yeah."

"Well, considering I've done this and it saved the whole land, I'll say, go for it."

"Really?" asked Harry sceptically. "I mean, there could be serious repercussions if this gets out."

"So what?" retorted Eragon, his eyes alive. "You aren't risking your life or others', are you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then do it," said the Rider, his tone serious. When he saw the look Harry gave him, he sighed and turned full to the younger boy. "Considering you said that it would be angering the Ministry of Magic, I'm guessing it's got to do something with Umbridge." When Harry nodded, he continued, "Look, there's nothing wrong with rebelling once in a while, especially if you're doing something good for yourself and those you care about." His mouth curved up. "Take it from the cause of a rebellion." He squeezed Harry's shoulder encouragingly. Then he stood up.

Harry's head spun when he saw the Rider standing on the ledge of a very high tower, acting as if he couldn't fall to his death any second.

Eragon offered him his hand and Harry took it. The Rider pulled him up with almost too much strength. "Good night, Harry." He gave him one last encouraging look before he strode down the stairs, his tall figure being swallowed by the darkness.

The next morning, Harry told Hermione that he would teach the other students Defence Against the Dark Arts.

* * *

 **Pfft! You don't hate me! You _love_ me! You wouldn't have this *gestures to the story* brilliance without me! :P xD**

 **Okay, all jokes aside though; I'm really sorry I hadn't updated in three months and a half. But you guys are AWESOME! I mean, 181 follows and 114 favorites along with 91 reviews! I LOVE YOU!**

 **So, how'd you like this chapter? I think that Aberforth and Eragon would make good friends.**

 **Anyway, a few things I have to say:**

 **1\. I'm thinking of changing my username, so don't be alarmed if you see another name the next time I update (which will be in indefinete time).**

 **2\. Can you help me figure out Eragon's birthday (not the exact one, like which part of the month, e.g. the end of July or something)?**

 **3\. There were literally no offers for beta-ing, so now you don't get to complain that I make grammar mistakes :P Though thank you for your compliments on my knowledge of English.**

 **4\. But I could really use help from a native Norwegian speaker, because I don't speak Norwegian (that's what I wanted to say in the last AN but I forgot to write speak). Pretty please?**

 **5\. I think that's it.**

 **So, answers to your reviews:**

 **Quintain Apprentince of Alduin: Uh, no? I'm really sorry.**

 **Cynder2013: Mhm, though they can't be all-mighty.**

 **Zanondalf1992: Oh, you just kick back and relax, 'cause you're in for an enjoyable ride, honey. :D**

 **crazyone-oh-one: Danke schön :D You readers warm my heart :)**

 **SpaceDandyman: I'm sorry it took so long, but thanks. :)**

 **Dragonsblue: Thanks, sorry for the wait :)**

 **TheDancingMelon: Join the club :D but thanks.**

 **SaviourUnleashed: I know, I love the house-elves :)) I try to answer every review and yes, Arya will come up, just not in Harry world.**

 **FireDragon233: *blushes* You flatter me :)**

 **xXxGhostRiderxXx: Take that, Death Eaters :P I think it'll be fun to write, yes.**

 **dragonlver: Thank you, I do put in an effort. I just hate Umbridge, so naturally, so will Eragon.**

 **Guest: Ha-ha, if you knew me, you'd know that I don't do well with deadlines xD But I'll try, I really will.**

 **Peyton: Well, there might not be a bit of action in the next chapter, I'll see... Of course they'll clash - he's beautiful, she's not, among other things. Oh, Saphira would do more than flip, I'd imagine.**

 **Inherifan1: You really love this, don't ya? I'm sorry for not updating... :)**

 **andrewbaur69: Why, thank you :D But I'll see how and when the students will get to meet Saphira - maybe sooner, maybe later... you never know ;) Also, I want Eragon to speak another language, though he probably could get away with speaking Ancient Language.**

 **Ky111: Hmm, maybe... ;) But I think she did, for a second.**

 **ShadowTabby: Danke schön :)))**

 **WriterGreenReads: I'm glad :D and thank you. But did you realize I actually asked how horrible it was? xD xD xD**

 **Guest: For the first part, -"-; and for the second, yes, I actually have an awesome fanmade grammar. You should check it out: It's An Introduction To The Ancient Language from Paolini . net**

 **Guest: I should really try that sometime. :)**

 **DrBurn: Once again, heart-warming 3 Thank you :) I really enjoy writing Eragon, he's such an amazing character.**

 **peyton: I don't know if you and Peyton are the same, but thanks anyway :)**

 **SaviourUnleashed: I'm sorry, okay? I know I'm a horrible person! :(**

 **Zekrom1010101010: Since Eragon. He's always hated slavery. Otherwise, I totally agree with you. Well, except for the Ron part - I'm kind of neutral to him.**

 **redninjalass19: Thank you :) that makes me feel special. Yes, I know they're very powerful. And they will. Probably...**

 **emilee1404: Thank you for reading :D**

 **Also, thank you,** _Pkmntrainereragon124 **,**_ **for being my constant reminder and for your unswerving love for this story :'D**

 **Lots of love,**

 **EA4E.**


	8. Chapter 8: Oh-so-pure Innocent Child Sou

**I'm just . . . gonna be . . . quiet and unnoticeable so that you will try to kill me less . . .**

 ***meekly* Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer:** _Nothing is mine._

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8: Oh-so-pure Innocent Child Soul**

 _Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies._  
 _ **-Edna St. Vincent Millay**_

* * *

"I want to join the Order of the Phoenix."

Albus Dumbledore looked up from the Daily Prophet to look at Eragon Bromsson, who stood in front of the closed door of the office. He was dressed in a simple black T-shirt and rugged jeans today, his hair side-swept with envious elegance. If Albus hadn't known any better, he would've mistaken him for a simple teenage Muggle.

But the Rider's eyes were filled with far too much pain and experience for him to be so . . . _mundane_. He was gazing at Albus with an air of a true leader.

"What?"

Albus had tried to keep the surprise from his voice and he'd succeeded – but only partially.

Eragon crossed his arms. "You heard me," he said, his voice utterly calm.

Albus put down the Prophet and made sure that the edges and corners were properly straightened before he looked back at the younger man. "Eragon, you must understand that the Order is only for –"

The Rider waved his hand. "For full-age people and those who have finished their education, I know," he said, a little tersely. "Last I checked, I fulfil both of those conditions."

"Ah." Albus took off his glasses and put them down on his table delicately. "And I suppose Saphira knows about this?"

"She does."

"And she agrees?"

"She doesn't like it, but she accepts it and knows it's necessary, therefore she agrees."

"And why, pray tell, do you want to join the order?" asked Albus, not unkindly, as he gestured for the youth to sit down opposite of him. "This isn't your fight, much less your world."

Eragon sat down, his intense eyes trained on Albus. He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I've been mulling over the fact that you're lacking members since I saw that in your memories. And it bothers me that here I am, with practically nothing to do, while the Order's members are tearing themselves apart to fulfill all that is necessary. It doesn't seem right."

Albus leaned back in his chair, delicately clasping his fingers in his lap. "It didn't seem right to the Weasely twins either and they're full adults – like you. Matter of fact, they are your age. But they weren't allowed to join." He returned Eragon's stare. "Why should you be?"

Eragon appeared unbothered. "I have something they don't – experience. I have fought in a war and won. I have been injured many times and I have seen people die – some of them close to me. I have killed people – it's not something I am proud of or something I like to look back upon, but it is a fact." His mouth had formed a thin line and his fists clenched by his side. "As it is a fact that you need more members."

Albus tipped his head, sadly forced to concede. "You're not wrong." When the youth opened his mouth to answer, the Headmaster quickly continued, "But you're young, Eragon, and I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you while working for the Order. Especially since we have to get you back to your world – Alagaësia, is it? – alive and well."

Eragon flinched slightly, but when he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "Saphira and I made the decision to stay here, but I assure you that I am looking for ways to return ho—back, that is. And even if we don't, there are people more than equipped to take our places." Mixed emotions danced behind his orbs. "As for the safety issue, I think I have that covered better than all of your Order combined." He leaned back and tipped his head to the side. "How many dragons have you got on your side, exactly?"

Albus sighed. "Point taken."

Both of their heads turned to Fawkes when the Phoenix trilled softly and gave Albus a look, making the Headmaster sigh.

"Very well," he said as his head bowed slightly in defeat. "I will take you to the meeting. However, that does not mean that you are allowed to join the Order – at least most of the Order has to agree on that."

Eragon nodded, looking pleased. "Fair enough. When do we leave?"

"In a couple hours."

* * *

 _I don't like it,_ said Saphira, her tongue flicking out of her mouth as she flew slowly.

 _I know,_ replied Eragon, his fingers moving over her scales deftly in comfort. _I don't either, but you can't just merrily fly into the middle of London._

Something between amusement and irritation colored her thoughts. _Watch me._

They were flying above Hogwarts, thousands of feet above the great castle, so that no one could see them. (Even if someone did, they could mistake them for a large bird.) The air up here was fresh and cool – to the point of being downright cold – but Eragon was used to it by now. He'd simply said a few words in Ancient language to keep himself warm.

It was almost night now, the dusk already falling upon the earth and coloring the sky in colors of dark blue, pink and light orange. The dim light reflected on Saphira's scales and made the sapphire blue darker and richer.

Saphira opened her jaws slightly and snapped them back shut. _How does this_ _ **Apparating**_ – she said the word uncertainly – _even work?_

Eragon shrugged. _Beats me,_ he mumbled. _Dumbledore wasn't very specific – but then again, he rarely is._

 _And while you're in that London, I have to stay here, not knowing if you are alright or not?_ She snorted – somewhat angrily. _It's like choosing the new dwarf king all over again._

Eragon chuckled. _I have a hard time imagining Nasuada as Dumbledore,_ he remarked amusedly. _Don't you?_

Saphira puffed. _If you weren't my Rider, I would've eaten you a long time ago,_ she retorted. _You're annoying._

 _I do try._

She tucked her wings to her body and propelled herself downward, waiting just a second for Eragon to turn them invisible. Then she plummeted down, the wind rushing around them and howling in their ears like a song of the nature.

 _There are others who don't have inhibitions like me. Don't try too hard._

* * *

Eragon stumbled forward as soon as his feet hit solid ground and shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. The Apparition was an awful experience – one he never wanted to experience again, but knew he would have to repeat again soon.

The ringing in his ears had dulled but not stopped. He tapped them gently, trying to ignore the emptiness in his mind where Saphira's absence was like a gaping black hole.

Their separation had been sudden, abrupt, like a swipe of a blade severing a rope, but no less painful.

"Feel free to throw up," said Dumbledore, who was standing a few paces behind them. He looked perfectly undisturbed, as if he were used to being stuffed an inch-wide tube every day – but he probably was, anyhow. He had somehow sucked the light out of every lamp on the street and his face was half-shadowed. "It is not unusual for the first time."

Eragon shook his head and straightened his back. "I'll be fine." He closed his eyes for a second and let his heart rate slow down. "I've been through worse."

A hint of a sad smile played around Dumbledore's mouth. "I have no doubt." He nodded towards the houses in front of him and Eragon turned to look at it.

The houses along the street were grim, unwelcoming-looking ageing places with broken windows and dulled paint that seemed almost non-existent, even to Eragon's keen eyes. The number twelve in front of them – Eragon could see it since Dumbledore had let him know of its location minutes before – was no more friendly-looking. In fact, it seemed even eerier than the others.

"It's lovely," he said dryly.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Admittedly, it's not the friendliest of places, but it is the safest," he said. "No one uninvited can get inside." He gestured to the house. "Shall we?"

Before either of them could move forward there was another sound of Apparition coming from a few yards to their left and they whirled to face the newcomer, Eragon's hand going to the dagger at his belt.

A slim female figure stood there, clad in a long dark blue robe. She had light pink hair and twinkling dark eyes, her face pale and heart-shaped. She looked a few years older than Eragon, being 25 at most.

She blinked. "Do you have to point that dagger at me?" she asked. "It's making me nervous."

It was Eragon's turn to blink. "What?"

She pointed at the dagger in Eragon's hand. "The dagger," she explained slowly. "In your hand."

"Oh." Eragon hurriedly stashed the dagger back in his belt, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

There was a chuckle from Dumbledore. "Eragon," he said, gesturing to the young woman, "this is Nymphadora Tonks, but she prefers to be called –"

Nymphadora shook his hand. "Tonks," she said enthusiastically. "Just Tonks." She shuddered. "I hate my name."

Eragon grinned. "I'm Eragon Bromsson."

Tonks easily mirrored his grin. "So I've heard," she said. "Crashing in the middle of Forbidden Forest? Wicked entrance."

Eragon had a feeling they would be good friends.

* * *

Sirius sat at the kitchen table of the Grimmauld Place, his fingers drumming against the wood as he, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Moody, Shacklebolt, Remus, Snape and a few of other Order members waited for the remaining members of the Order to arrive.

Molly and Arthur, along with Bill, were talking in hushed voices while Moody was grumbling something about punctuality and the least the others could've done was show up on time. Shacklebolt was being his usual calm self, just sitting at the table and looking around. Remus, too, appeared unbothered as he idly read the Daily Prophet that was probably again – or rather, still – sprouting nonsense about Harry and Dumbledore. Snape was being his usual Snivellus-y self, frowning deeply. The others were sitting around the room, quietly waiting.

Sirius heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices and he leaped to his feet, needing something to do, even if that something was only greeting the others. He ran up the narrow stairs and opened the door to the hallway. Three figures, two male and one female, were standing there.

Tonks, the only female in the group, was giggling softly, looking up at the male standing next to her and Dumbledore. "You're joking," she said flatly. "I don't believe you. You did _not_ walk in the girls' bathroom and meet the Moaning Myrtle on your first day."

"I did," answered the male. He was tall and lean with pale skin and brown hair. His features, though holding the barest hints of boyishness, were clean and slanting, giving him an air of beauty and confidence one might expect of a pureblood. His eyes were brown and deep, flicking over his surroundings uncertainly. Sirius frowned. Dumbledore had said he was bringing another candidate, but Sirius hadn't expected someone so . . . young. "I really did." The boy grimaced. "She wouldn't let me get out either."

Tonks giggled again. "Sounds like Myrtle."

The boy scratched his nose awkwardly. "I wouldn't know."

Dumbledore chuckled as well, steering the younger people along the hallway. "Believe me, it really does."

Tonks and the boy started forward, but Tonks, who was looking up at the brown-haired youth wasn't looking where she was walking and she strode directly toward the troll-leg umbrella stand.

Sirius moved forward. "Tonks, watch out!"

It was too late. Tonks stumbled over the umbrella stand and the ugly thing swayed for a couple moments. Then it fell over and hit the ground with a resounding crash. There were a few seconds of blissful silence and then –

"SCUM! HALF-BREEDS! MUDBLOODS! IN MY HOUSE! BEGONE! HOW DARE YOU TAINT THE HOSUE OF MY FATH—"

She got no further than that. The boy's brown eyes had widened and he turned so quickly it was almost invisible to the naked eye. His hand raised in a flash and he barked out a startled word. Sirius's mother's portrait could no longer be heard even if the woman's mouth was still opening.

The boy looked stunned, if his gaping mouth and tensed shoulders were anything to go by. He turned to Dumbledore with a jerking movement. "Are screaming portraits a decoration here?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Dumbledore looked just as surprised as him, probably not from the portrait, but from the boy's quick reaction – altogether it had probably lasted for about two seconds.

"Wow," Sirius said, only vaguely registering the others' presence behind him. "You have _got_ to teach me how to do that."

The boy's head swiveled to face Sirius. Blood had disappeared from his face and his cheeks were pale again, but his expression was still startled. Up close, Sirius could see that the boy really wasn't that young. His cheeks were just a tad too prominent and his eyes a bit too intense, too haunted. Sirius knew the look in those eyes – he saw it every time he looked in Remus's eyes, or Moody's or Shacklebolt's. Hell, he saw it every time he looked in a mirror – it was the look of people who had fought in a war.

The boy straightened and schooled his expression in calmness. "You're Sirius Black," he stated.

However Sirius had expected him to react – screaming and pulling out his wand, pointing it at Sirius's chest; running away in the opposite direction; fainting – it was not it. The boy had said it so coolly it was almost comical compared to his previous state.

"The falsely accused one," the boy continued, letting his arm fall back to his side.

"Falsely accused," mocked Snape in his silkily annoying voice, "is an exaggeration." He directed his dark gaze to Dumbledore. "What is _he_ doing here?" he asked with a sneer – the boy's presence obviously didn't sit well with him.

Dumbledore appeared unbothered. "He wanted in the Order and I couldn't deny his arguments."

"And what were those arguments?" Snape sneered again – or he had never stopped, whatever. "That he can _fight_?"

The boy raised a brow. "I can, actually," he said coolly. "Also, I have completed my education and I am an adult," he continued. "Do you want me to go on?"

"That's enough, Severus, Eragon." Dumbledore stepped in-between the two men and gestured toward the stairwell that led to the kitchen. "We can discuss Eragon's matter in the kitchen."

Eragon mumbled something that sounded like, "Saphira would have a lot to say right now," under his breath, but obediently followed Sirius and the others in the kitchen.

When they came there, everyone sat down on a free seat and Eragon followed their lead, sitting right across from Sirius and in-between Tonks and Bill. He put his right hand on the table, pale fingers drumming quietly against the wood.

Dumbledore sat down at the head of the table. "So, this is Eragon Bromsson. He recently, ah, arrived under some very interesting circumstances – I don't know if you've heard."

Oh, Sirius'd _definitely_ heard. Crashing amidst the Forbidden Forest? The kid had _style_.

"However," Dumbledore continued, shooting Sirius who had opened his mouth a look. "That is not the important matter at this meeting. What is important is that Eragon wishes to join the Order."

"No," Molly said. "Absolutely not."

Everyone turned to her, Eragon arching his eyebrows slightly. "Why not?" he asked, his accent smooth and unusual.

Molly fixed him with one of her I'm-a-mother-so-don't-talk-like-that-to-me look. "How old are you?"

His chin lifted. "Seventeen."

"And I suppose you're turning eighteen next year, not this one?"

"That would be correct."

"You cannot be in the Order." Molly sounded and looked adamant. "You're just a child."

"I'm not a child." He said it with a sort of firmness Sirius didn't dare question.

"Your age suggest otherwise," put in Snape, oh-so-helpfully.

Eragon tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. "Is this a poor attempt to fix the mistake _you_ made upon joining another group when you were my age or can you not stand to be around me any more than necessary since I am one of the rare ones that knows of your past and agenda?" he asked.

Snape paled and did not answer.

Eragon turned to the rest of them, his eyes assessing them before, at last, focusing on Molly. "If you're worried that the war I'm attempting to get myself into will leave a stain on my oh-so-pure innocent child soul, don't be," he said gravely. "I've been through my fair share of battles and the worst the Order has to offer right now is mediocre in my books – if that." He paused. "Let me help. I know you're trying to protect your children, siblings, godchildren – family and friends in general and I know how that feels. I know how it is to wonder what will happen to those you care about if you get hurt or – fate forbid – die.

"So, please, let me help. I have a few assets Death Eaters won't see coming," he finished.

There was only silence for a while.

Then, slowly, softly, and with great sorrow in his eyes as he looked at the youth, Remus said, "All those in favor of Eragon joining the order, raise your hand." He met his gaze with Eragon's as he slowly raised his hand. The youth inclined his head at him.

Sirius followed his old friend's lead without a moment's hesitation. He didn't know exactly why, but Eragon reminded him of himself slightly. Perhaps because of the need to fight, to _do_ something – it rolled off the youth in waves – he'd felt when he'd wanted to join the Order over a decade and a half ago.

And then, one by one, most of the Order raised their hands – Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, Moody, Bill, Tonks and others – and Eragon nodded to each one of them.

Sirius looked around. Only Molly, Snape and Arthur (ever the loyal husband) kept their hands down.

Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him. "So it's settled." He turned to Eragon and inclined his head. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Eragon Bromsson."

* * *

Harry looked up from the toast he had been buttering when Eragon slid onto the bench opposite of him and reached for a toast himself.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him. They'd formed a tentative friendship after their talk in the Astronomy Tower and Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, spent most of his free time – which was anytime he wasn't in class, having a Quidditch practice or doing homework – showing the Rider around Hogwarts. When they none of the three had time or was too exhausted, the twins and Ginny more-than-gladly took over.

However, the Rider, along with Dumbledore, had been gone the whole previous day and his lack of presence hadn't been missed by Harry – or half the Hogwarts, which, unfortunately, included the High Inquisitor herself as well.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked Eragon around a mouthful of bread, eggs and bacon.

Eragon smiled angelically. "Here and there," he said and bit into his toast.

Fred and George, who were sat just a couple of seats down the bench from Harry, perked up. "Ooh, a vague answer," said George, perching his chin on his hand. "Are you hiding something from us, Mr. Bromsson?"

Eragon snorted. "I pity the man who hides anything from you two." He glanced down the table to Ginny, who was talking animatedly with a couple of her classmates. "Or your sister, for that matter."

The twins nodded approvingly. "That is a very wise way of thinking and I recommend you live by it," said Fred and gave the Rider an impish grin. "But seriously though, where were you?"

"Dumbledore took me around London," said Eragon. He raised his goblet at Harry. "Snuffles says 'hi' by the way."

Hermione's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth, Harry's juice-filled goblet slipped out of his hand, Ron choked on his food, George elbow slid off the table, swearing profusely, and Fred knocked over his plate of eggs.

Eragon's mouth twitched in amusement and he took a deep sip from his goblet.

"Are you serious?" George gaped. "He took you to the – _there_?"

"I also got to see London," Eragon said. "It is very lovely at night." He slapped the coughing Ron on the back a few times as he spoke.

Fred leaned forward with interest. "So? What happened?"

Eragon shrugged nonchalantly. "I got in."

Ron fell into another coughing fit, Hermione's spoon fell into her cereal, Harry nearly choked on his own saliva and the twins started protesting in unison. But before any of them could say anything—

"Hem, hem," came from right behind them.

Harry froze, along with his friends. Only Eragon remained relaxed—of course, with that superior senses of his he must've known she was coming since she'd got up from the teachers' table—and he bowed his head at Umbridge respectfully—or so it seemed. Harry noticed the slight distasteful curl of his lip.

"Professor Umbridge," he greeted pleasantly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

She didn't bother with a greeting. "You got in where, Mr. Bromsson?" she asked instead.

"Headmaster's office," Eragon lied smoothly, without missing a beat. "It took me ages before I remembered the password."

"Did it now?" Umbridge's voice turned a shade sweeter. "And where were you and the Headmaster the whole day yesterday?"

Eragon grinned with child-like vigor. "We went sightseeing," he answered. "London is beautiful."

"Really? I checked at the Leaky Cauldron and no one remembered seeing you—either of you—walk through there."

"I cared more for the Muggle parts of the city."

Seeing as she couldn't seem to get him at his lie, Umbridge changed tactics. "As the High Inquisitor, I must be informed of every resident of this castle—student or staff—leaving the grounds and correct me if I'm wrong, but neither of you did that. You must be punished for that." She opened her mouth to continue, but seemingly out of thin air, Dumbledore appeared at her side.

"I'm afraid Eragon is not at all at fault here, Dolores," he said calmly. "He didn't know. You can only punish me."

Umbridge looked as if she'd swallowed something sour and Eragon, the little cheek, had the audacity to grin at her.

Harry could almost hear Saphira reprimanding her Rider.

* * *

As Eragon strolled into the Headmaster's office later that day, he found Dumbledore reading the Daily Prophet, his face unusually drawn.

"Still sprouting that nonsense about you and Harry?" Eragon asked, casually leaning against a wall.

Dumbledore raised his head, momentary surprise flashing across his features. "How do you get in here so _quietly_?" he said.

Eragon's mouth twitched, amused and more-than-a-little smug over the fact he'd scared Dumbledore. "Hunter's stealth."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment on his momentary slip of mentioning his past.

Eragon straightened. "Anyway," he said, "you wanted to see me?"

He'd been learning—more like bemoaning the fact that he had to learn—Norwegian when an out-of-breath Kimly had appeared by his side and nearly scared him out of his wits. He'd literally jumped out of his chair and Saphira, who'd been sleeping, had laughed herself hoarse. Kimly, with whom his relationship had immensely improved over the past weeks, had rushed to apologize, but it had been blatantly obvious she was holding back a smile. When Eragon had told her that she could laugh if she wanted, she'd begun chuckling but ended up laughing nearly as hard as Saphira.

After they were done, Eragon stared at them, but had listened to Kimly's message and had left in a moderate hurry, making sure to flick Saphira's nostril on the way out.

The headmaster nodded and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Eragon sat down immediately. "The Order wanted to give you a first mission," he said evenly and Eragon perked up. He continued, "Nothing huge, just something to start making sure you're reliable."

The Rider nodded in understanding. "Okay."

"As you probably know, our infamous trio has always been a bit on adventurous side," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "With Dolores hovering over them, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they tried something on upcoming Hogsmeade weekend." He pressed his fingertips together. "All we ask is to keep an eye on them—on Harry, especially. And not just in Hogsmeade. Make sure they don't get in too much trouble here too."

Saphira snorted. _You sure are asking the right person to keep them out of trouble,_ she mocked lightly.

Eragon sent her a mock-offended face and batted her laughter away with a grumble.

Corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched upward. "I have faith in your Rider, Saphira," he said and he sounded sincere.

Eragon grinned at him.

* * *

 **So, Eragon's in the Order? Pretty cool, right?**

 **Okay, okay, you can stop glaring. I'll start working on the next chapter first thing after all the obligatory tomorrow.**

 **Anyhow, my life's been a bit of a shock lately (past month, not before so I only have excuse for past month). My personall life's been a rollercoaster (a small one, but a rollercoaster nonetheless) so I'm more than glad to return to the fictional world(s).**

 **So, if you haven't noticed, I changed my name, but I'm keeping my initials cause I like them. Fight me. Also, I've decided that I don't need a beta reader since I don't want to burden anyone and I think-I _think_ I can manage on my own. But thank you to all who offered. **

**And one other thing: I've read a lot of books lately (namely Throne of Glass series and ACOTAR trilogy) that include a lot of sassy characters so forgive me if either one of mine gets excessively snarky.**

 **Anyway, the answers to your questions:**

 **Pkmntrainereragon124: You beautiful, beautiful soul that has unrelenting love for this story and has taken on the role of my personal alarm clock, I thank you for everything.**

 **SaviourUnleashed: I hope you didn't die this time! I like the idea of Eragon joking around so you can expect more of that.**

 **Cynder2013: At one point, I did try to learn it, but it took me six months to update this story? Do I look like a very unlazy person?**

 **Zanondalf1992: Thank you :) Probably not, but I'll think about it.**

 **Ky111: Thanks :)** **Yes, Eragon could easily face off Voldemort, especially with Saphira by his side, but I want Harry to do the job. We'll se about going home ;)**

 **Sierra Shadow Nightingale: Thank you :)**

 **Zekrom1010101010: Perhaps it was a human part of him coming alive again or maybe it was a vision ;) He is learning Norwegian, not Norse. Thanks though**

 **vrangrmalmrvaupna: (I hope I wrote that right) Hahahha**

 **Guest: Omg, she would freaking FLIP!**

 **Peyton: He was sitting there cause he was homesick and had some things to think about. Perhaps he will join it and for the rest, you'll have to see.**

 **DrBurn: Thank you for everything (the compliment, offer to beta and calculating Eragon's birthdate). Regarding the last matter, I came to a similar conclusion. I'm still quite set on keeping Arya in Alagaësia, yes.**

 **tiffywiffyfluffykitty: Thank you. Of course they do, I couldn't get in way of their destiny now, could I?**

 **Falcondoom45, An Anonymoose, , ThatOneFangirlWithNoLife: Thank you**

 **Night Blaze-Bringer of Harmony: Oh, Eragon and Saphira have a lot to say to her, don't worry. I do too. Regarding the request, sorry**

 **Carnivore Does: Omg, yes, that would be great, thank you! I'll PM when I need you, okay?**

 **, crashingthroughtime, sprtgln: Thank you and there you go**

 **So, in future chapters I'll be answering by PM and not in chapters, just so you know.**

 **With love,**

 **EA4E**


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